The Left Turn
by QuasiOuster
Summary: AU, non-zombie story. Michonne and Daryl meet by chance under stressful circumstances. Their brief encounter dramatically changes their lives as fate and their own determination guide their future together.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimers**__**: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead franchise and no profit is intended or expected or actually received. This story is AU but involves elements of all 4 seasons of the show as well as the comic books so a general spoiler warning is in effect. **_

_**Story Notes**__**: This is a real world, non-zombie story centered around a chance meeting between Daryl and Michonne. Other characters we know and love will appear and an occasional familiar scenario from the show will be re-imagined. Also, I took some geographical and logistical license for several scenes so bear with me on those and hopefully it's not too distracting. **_

_**Author Thanks**__**: All the props to Jacqi Kennedy for requesting and encouraging this story. I started it eons ago but hadn't gotten much steam on it. When I picked it back up, it became a blast to write (you were on point about everything). And huge thanks, C, who is one of my long-time betas and helped a fair bit with some technical details. **__**And general thanks to everyone for reading. I will probably edit through this fairly quickly so if there's something that you don't think works or something that you particularly like, drop me a line and let me know. All feedback is appreciated and helpful. Enjoy!**_

* * *

**Chapter One**

Daryl shifted uncomfortably on the bench and stared at his watch for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. He worried that maybe he was in the wrong place and had checked his paperwork five different times since arriving. Now he had the papers rolled up and clutched in his hand so he wouldn't nervously fiddle with anything while he waited.

He sat in the back of the courtroom just like every other time he'd met with his attorney. But so far, the guy was a no-show. He'd been waiting for an hour and a half for his case to come up. Every minute with no word and no lawyer made him more concerned that he wouldn't know what to do if the judge called his name and he didn't have anyone to speak for him. He was already confused about most everything that happened in this place. It wouldn't do him any good to be further screwed because the damn public defender dropped the ball.

When the door opened, he turned to check if it was his guy but he quickly dismissed the suited, dreadlocked black woman who strolled in with a rollaway briefcase and a few files in her hand.

Another attorney, he scoffed. He'd seen a trail of them going in and out and it didn't look like any of them on either side were doing much work. The woman glanced at him and likewise dismissed him before turning to an older man on the other side of the aisle from him. She sat down next to him and they started some sort of whispered conversation while the people up front rambled on back and forth.

Five more minutes passed and still no attorney. Daryl frowned at his watch again. His lawyer had seemed alright so far but he was supposed to make this case go away. Merle had taken the fall for the fight they'd had at that bar. He hadn't even wanted to go that night. So when Merle got himself in trouble, like always, he'd reluctantly joined in and only after it looked like the two other guys were going to get the upper hand. There was no way he would leave his brother in a lurch even if he did probably deserve an ass-kicking every now and then.

But then the one guy got knocked out before breaking Merle's nose and the second guy got in a hit to Daryl's eye right as the cops were busting things up. All four of them got arrested.

He'd been coming to court for months and this was supposed to be the day that would decide if he was likely to do time or not. It didn't seem right for his lawyer to just leave him stewing like this. And Daryl didn't want to admit that Merle might've had a point that trying to do the right and playing by the rules was a weak move. It seemed pretty accurate right now with his lawyer gone AWOL.

It was just another example of how he couldn't buy a break.

There was a shuffling in the front of the room as the people that had been arguing before left the barricaded area and kept up their intense discussion as they walked out the door. Anxiety flared again in the pit of Daryl's stomach.

Some guy next to the judge picked up a new file. "State versus Daryl Dixon," he yelled, not even glancing up. Daryl cast a skittish sweep of the courtroom before he reluctantly shuffled to the front with his papers. A familiar woman stood off to the right and she scrutinized him for a few moments before turning her attention back to her folder. Daryl stopped at the gate separating the front of the courtroom, unsure if he should move inside.

After a minute of silence with no one speaking up, the judge raised his head. He zeroed in on Daryl standing by the barricade trying to seem defiant while simultaneously looking like a complete idiot standing there without a clue.

"Are you Mr. Dixon," the judge asked. Daryl nodded and the bailiff strolled over to open the gate for him. Daryl walked through and veered towards his left where he'd always stood for his other short appearances. "Where's your attorney?"

Daryl wouldn't admit it to anyone but he was pretty intimidated. He'd barely had to say two words in court, his lawyer doing all the talking. Hell, he hardly ever even knew what was happening until the lawyer explained it to him afterwards. How was he supposed to do this alone without landing himself in jail?

"Don't know, sir," Daryl replied. "He was supposed to meet me here but I aint seen 'em." Hopefully, being polite would buy him some time. But Daryl wasn't known for his luck or his patience—nor his ability not to go off when frustrated.

The judge sighed and leafed through the pile of folders on his desk before typing in something on his computer off to the side. "Just what we all need this morning. You've got Miller?" Daryl nodded, squeezing the paperwork in his hand again before realizing he was probably crushing the very information he needed to get out of this mess. "Typical Miller," he muttered. The judge scanned the crowd as if checking for himself and then honed in on one individual. "Counselor, you want to appear here for your office? Maybe we can postpone or something until your colleague gets his act together."

Daryl looked over his shoulder but couldn't tell to whom the judge was talking.

The woman on the right who had scrutinized him jumped up at that with a frown. "Your honor, we're trying to get a disposition on this case. I talked to Mr. Miller yesterday and he assured me we'd address the matter and move forward. All of the other defendants have pled out and this last defendant's case has been continued numerous times. If the defendant is going to go to trial, our office needs to prepare for that."

The judge looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at her. "That's why I'm trying to get an appearance in Ms. O'Conner." Daryl glanced over to the prosecutor in time to see the gate open for the suited black woman from earlier. She had her rolling briefcase with her and a stern expression on her face.

He did not like where this situation was heading.

First of all, she looked fucking scary. Second of all, he didn't know how comfortable he felt having some stranger in his business right off the bat. Daryl prided himself on being a practical guy and that didn't include trusting some random to keep him out of jail.

If the woman sensed his discomfort, she ignored it. Instead she stepped up beside him, said something directed at the court reporter and then raised her head to address the judge. "Your honor, I know nothing about this case and wouldn't feel right stepping in for my colleague."

"Well, why don't you ask him," the judge threw back flippantly. "I'll give you a minute." The tightness around the woman's mouth indicated that she was probably biting back a smart response to the man.

When she turned to him, Daryl was frozen by the full intensity of her stare. There was no doubt that she was a hardass. At least her expression reflected annoyance at the judge and the situation rather than anger. And even those emotions disappeared as her eyes settled on him, transforming to a calming curiosity. When she spoke, her voice was softer than it had been with the judge and more gentle than he'd been expecting.

"Can I see your paperwork," she asked, indicating the rolled up mess he was holding. Daryl was too perplexed to protest and handed the documents over. She scanned the pages quickly and efficiently, shuffling them one after the other. As she read, she walked over to the prosecutor and they had a short, terse conversation.

That part pissed Daryl off. How were these people gonna keep him out of the loop on his own damn case? It was his life hanging on the line and they were treating him like some damn bystander. His expression must have shown his frustration since the woman put her hand on his shoulder, ostensibly to calm him. The touch made him flinch a little yet he held his ground and frowned in disapproval; he didn't like people touching him.

She removed her hand quickly ducking her head in apology for the discomfort. However, her parting glance ended with an affirming nod. The reassurance in her face and the steadiness of her brief touch projected confidence as if she'd make sure everything came out okay.

And somehow, contrary to his usual instincts, he believed her.

"Your honor, after reviewing and speaking to the state, I really think we need to get Mr. Dixon's attorney in on this. As you know, this case has been lingering. If it pleases the court, I'll go try and find Mr. Miller if you can put Mr. Dixon's case last on the second call. If we can get this disposed of today with Mr. Miller's involvement, I think it'll be best for all involved."

Daryl's eyes swung over to the judge who appeared wary and put out. But he nodded nonetheless. "Fine counselor. Find your colleague and bring him back here. You've got thirty minutes."

The woman led Daryl from the table and back through the courtroom. She signaled to the man she'd been talking to before, probably a client, and then led Daryl out into the hallway.

Free of the stifling formality of the courtroom, Daryl had to keep himself from exploding on her out of frustration. "What the hell was that?"

The woman was already making notes on a pad she'd pulled out of her pocket. "Judge Benson is an asshole, that's what that was. But I just bought you some time. I think Miller is in another courtroom so I'm going to go find him for you and hopefully you can get this taken care of." She handed him back his paperwork. "All the other defendants have been sentenced yet you're still waiting on your case. If you're out on your own recognizance then this isn't the kind of situation where some newbie should be stepping in to make the judge's life easier. A newbie on your case that is. I've been at this a while," she added absently as she finished her note-taking.

Daryl couldn't help glaring at her even though he realized the situation wasn't her fault and she was actually trying to help him out. "So what am I supposed to do while y'all figure out how my life's gonna go?"

The woman finally looked him in the eye and smiled sadly. "Sorry for the trouble. It's how the system is sometimes. You can wait out here if you like. Just sit tight and either I or your attorney will be back in a few." She gave him that reassuring nod again. "We'll get you taken care of, okay?"

Daryl was feeling a bit defeated at this point and wanted to believe her. What choice did he have really? He nodded back and took a seat on one of the benches along the wall.

She didn't spare him another glance as she took off down the hall with her briefcase trailing her.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: I feel compelled to clarify that I have no personal knowledge of how the courts run in Atlanta or Georgia in general so I extrapolated with my and my beta's personal knowledge. **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Michonne was pissed.

She pulled out her cell phone and called the office to find out what courtroom her colleague might be in. As she walked away from the rattled Daryl Dixon, she heard the crinkle of him balling up his paperwork again. Despite his posturing, he couldn't hide his anxiety, sitting alone on that bench looking attractively grizzled and aggressive; like a wounded bear. Poor guy. She felt bad for him.

And she felt bad for herself too. Getting their case administrator on the line, she groaned when she heard Eli's most likely location.

Not only did she have her own hearing that afternoon to prepare for but now she was stuck babysitting a client for stupid Eli Miller. The guy was alright if you didn't mind another brash, Denny Crane prototype but he had some serious issues with scheduling and time management. No doubt he thought he could finish up his hearing in Judge Osborne's courtroom and swing by this guy Dixon's disposition appearance. But any attorney who'd been around for even a week knew that Osborne was the most tedious windbag in the building. Nothing took under two hours to get done on her watch.

Sure enough, when she entered the courtroom, Osborne was analyzing something at the bench while Miller, his client and the prosecutor sat around twiddling their thumbs. She got the bailiff's attention and pointed to Miller; he motioned her forward, confirming that the judge was doing her usual thing that would allow for a quick word with her co-worker.

Michonne snuck quietly into the galley and tapped Eli on the shoulder. Judge Osborne glanced up but went back to whatever she was perusing on the bench.

"What the hell, Miller. I've got Judge Benson trying to pawn off your Dixon case on me because you're a no-show. I'm supposed to drag you back there whether you like it or not."

Miller turned and grabbed a case file from his briefcase. "Dude, I know. I've been trying to move this hearing along but look at her." Michonne did not need to look at the judge to know what had gone down.

"Then you should have sent someone with the case file to continue it. Benson's pissed, O'Conner is complaining about going to trial and your client is freaking out."

Miller grinned. "Dixon's freaking out? I thought that guy was tough as nails. Not as hard as his asshole brother who's the whole reason he's even in this mess but still." He opened the file he'd pulled out and then handed it to her. "Basically, his brother gets into a bar fight and the little Dixon got pulled in. The other guys are all redneck pricks with records as long as my arm. They conflicted out and were sentenced two weeks ago. But Dixon's got a case and I'm not gonna let them railroad him on a felony assault charge for a bar brawl that he was barely even involved in."

Michonne was flipping through the file and her eyes narrowed when she got to the witness statements. "I see what you mean. This guy's got no record, not even a juvenile one. Why are they trying to get time out of him?"

"Because of the usual clueless douchebags at the D.A.'s office and their stats. O'Conner isn't even that stoked about it but she's gotta go along with whatever her supervisor says. These guys don't even live in the county. They were just passing through on the way back from a construction job."

"So this Dixon guy's been traveling all this way for these appearances? You really should get this taken care of today. He's been in and out an obscene number of times already."

"I know, I'm trying."

Michonne saw that the judge was wrapping up her assessment of whatever it was that had stalled the hearing. She needed to figure something out fast because she did not want to go back to Benson's courtroom empty handed. She had a hearing in front of him that afternoon and didn't need the sour grapes.

"Can you tell Osborne that you've got another appearance?"

Miller rolled his eyes. "I already tried that and you see how far it got me. She says we'll be done when we're done." He checked his watch and frowned. "Michonne, can you just appear for me. Try to get the D.A. to agree to diversion with a six month expungement."

"Seriously?" Michonne said, with a chastising grin.

"It can't hurt to try. O'Conner likes you. I know she's got a cruise to Greece or some shit planned next month. There's no way she wants to go to trial. And you're a magician. If anyone can get this guy a good deal it's you. He may look like a hillbilly racist from Deliverance but he's good people. He doesn't deserve to have this bullshit on his record."

Michonne looked dubious. "Eli, I've got a hearing this afternoon. My client is already here."

"And you also pled out five guys on Monday. That hearing is a cake walk, especially in front of Benson." Michonne shook her head. "C'mon, I'll do half your arraignment rotation next month, alright? And drinks are on me this Friday."

They stared at each other, Michonne considering the benefits and drawbacks of folding to his request. Finally, she closed the file and glared at him. "It's top shelf treatment all night."

Miller grinned. "Thanks, ma'am." They both turned as the judge cleared her throat. Michonne drew her hands up defensively and grabbed her briefcase and Dixon's file to take her leave. Eli pulled at her arm before she stepped away. "Tell Dixon, I'll call him later. I know he's in good hands." Michonne pulled her arm away but smirked at him as she left.

The bailiff, Mike, had gone to stand by the door of the courtroom and was grinning at her. When she approached, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Sucker."

She nudged him with her elbow in friendly jest as she passed.

Retracing her steps through the building, she read through Dixon's file and tracked all of his court appearances. By the time she rounded the corner to Benson's courtroom, she had gone back to re-reading the witness statements and the details about the other people involved in the fight. Dixon was sitting where she'd left him, elbows leaning on his knees and still kneading the hell out of his paperwork. His left foot bounced so rapidly, she thought it'd shake right off the joint. As with many of her clients, she hoped he wouldn't let the circumstances of getting caught up in the system do him in.

Seeing her coming towards him, he nervously stood up and rushed over to meet her down the hallway.

"Where's my lawyer at?" Eli may have sincerely thought this guy was tough as nails but he was definitely freaking out.

Michonne led him back over to the bench and sat down, motioning for him to join her. "He's stuck in court just like I thought. So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to appear for you. We can do that because both Eli and I work for the public defender's office and, technically, all of us are your attorney. Any one of us can represent you. Both Eli and I think that this is too serious a charge for what actually happened that night at the bar and how you were involved so we're going to try to negotiate an alternative."

Dixon nodded. "I aint tryin' to get outta sayin' I hit that guy. But he picked that fight with my brother and then hit me first when I tried to get between 'em. Eli said somethin' 'bout probation and then I might could get it off my record if I keep my nose clean for a while."

"Right," Michonne said, smiling encouragingly. "We call that a diversion program. I'm going to go in and talk to the prosecutor and see if she'll agree to that. You have a good case here; all the witnesses say that you didn't join in until the end and there _is_ evidence that the one guy threw a punch at you first. You have no record, pretty steady employment and you haven't missed a court date or violated the conditions of your release. The D.A. should want to get rid of this."

It was hard to look at the guy and not think of a kicked puppy. It helped that he didn't carry himself like a raging psychopath. So many of her clients did not have that going for them. She continued her explanation. "But if the D.A. isn't convinced, then we'll just continue the case until Eli can talk to her again and maybe work something out. I know that's not ideal and it doesn't sound like you want to go to trial but let's just take things one step at a time."

Dixon was silent trying to take all this information in, no doubt. But after a few moments he mumbled, "Alright. Do what ya gotta."

She squeezed his arm in what was hopefully a comforting gesture, noting that he didn't jerk away this time. "You can come in and sit in the back like before, that way you can watch while I talk to the D.A. Don't worry, I'll tell you everything that we discuss. And Eli will be back on your case as soon as he can get out of the other courtroom." The man nodded and stood up when she did.

Grasping his case file tighter in her hand, she steeled herself for the fight and entered the courtroom again.

TBC …


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Daryl didn't know what to think of the situation.

On the one hand, it was totally fucked up that he'd been working with the same lawyer only to have that guy bail on him when they were supposed to finally be wrapping shit up. Instead he's stuck with this woman he didn't know nothing about. Hell, he didn't even know her name.

On the other hand, this new lawyer seemed like she knew what she was doing so he probably shouldn't complain too much.

He'd heard that public defenders were the worst, from his friends and his family and TV and stuff. But the Miller guy had been okay. They'd shoot the shit when they talked about his case and he'd kept him out of jail so far. This stern woman now representing him didn't seem like the kind of person he'd want to hang out with. Yet he felt comfortable enough with her and she explained things a lot better than the other guy. Miller would always just say, 'hey, we're gonna take care of this,' but Daryl wouldn't be quite sure how that was going to happen. With this new lady, he felt like they at least had a plan.

He watched as the woman—his new attorney he should think of her—strolled up to the prosecutor, the young lady who had spoken earlier during his conversation with the judge. His lawyer's demeanor had changed as they entered the courtroom. Her shoulders straightened and her expression evened out. Girl had her game face on and the idea made Daryl want to laugh for some reason. He slid into his old seat towards the back of the room, as instructed, and tried not to read into anything.

The two women talked in hushed voices as the judge carried on other business with different parties. He couldn't understand how they all functioned with so much conversation and activity going on around them. His lawyer opened up his file and flipped some pages, pointing at something written in the report. The prosecutor scowled and came back with something else that made his attorney cock her head with an "oh really" attitude. While the prosecutor got more and more animated, his lawyer just kept her cool, flipping page after page and pointing at things before a lengthy explanation. After a while, he could see the prosecutor wearing down. She pointed up to something and his attorney just shrugged and closed the file.

Leaning in, his lawyer gestured towards Daryl and the prosecutor turned to stare at him. It made him nervous and he leaned back, unsure of how to act or what to do. He crossed and uncrossed his legs and then folded his arms across his chest. The woman turned back to Michonne and, judging by her small smile, he'd made some kind of humorous impression on her.

He scowled at that, know-it-all bitch D.A. thinking she knew him. Fortunately neither woman noticed his reaction.

His attorney grinned at the woman and pointed to the stack of cases on her desk while again gesturing towards him. This made the prosecutor straighten and then dismiss her with a curt wave of the hand. Daryl didn't think that was a good sign but when his attorney left the galley area, her stoic face was breaking into a discrete smile.

After leading him out of the courtroom again, she sat down next to him. She opened his file again and began making notes, leaning into him so he could see what she was writing. He noted how she smelled mildly of something earthy and sweet. It reminded him of walking through the woods in the spring.

What a strange thing to think about someone like her at a time like this.

His lawyer didn't seem to notice his attention though. "So, I got her to agree to a six-month diversion program called C.I.T.I.S., Community Involvement Through Intensive Service. What that means is that we put off the final disposition in your case, so you're not going to be found guilty or not guilty just yet. Instead, you'll be required to do a significant amount of community service in the next six months. We're talking about weekends, some evenings, that kind of a deal. You can work with Eli to get a project that will cut down on your commute time. There will also be other requirements like periodic drug tests and such but no curfew. If you finish this program without any incidents, we'll come back to court and the judge will dismiss the charges against you."

Daryl didn't know what to say. Just like that she'd worked something out? It seemed too good to be true.

"Before you say anything, I should also disclose that this isn't some walk in the park easy ride. You can't mess up at all on this program. It's for the lowest risk offenders and it assumes that you're not one of the bad apples. You're expected to be perfect. So if you can't handle that then you need to speak up now and we'll try and find something else."

Hell, it all sounded good to him. "How did you get her to go along with that?"

She grinned softly. "I told her the truth. You've got a good record and you weren't the problem factor in this scenario. And like I said, it's easier for them to make this case go away. She held out because she wanted more to show for her efforts on this case but at the end of the day, it's not worth the trouble. You're a good candidate for this and she's already got convictions on the other guys involved." Her smile widened. "I also suspect that she thinks you're cute."

Daryl's cheeks flushed and he dropped his gaze at hearing that. No way in hell was he getting caught up in that kind of conversation with her.

His lawyer laughed, a hearty but feminine sound. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, Mr. Dixon. Of course, this all depends on the judge agreeing. I'm going to do a summary for him when your case gets called up."

The next twenty minutes were a blur of waiting and then of sitting there while people talked around him. True to her word, his lawyer laid down the facts of his case and damn if he wasn't impressed. She hadn't even known his name an hour ago yet she was reeling off facts and dates like she was reading from a teleprompter. The prosecutor didn't say much and he couldn't bring himself to look over at her after what his lawyer had implied. But when the judge asked for her opinion, she had agreed with his lawyer.

He realized then that he still didn't know his new lawyer's name. He thought maybe she'd said it when the judge called his case but he'd missed it in all the confusion and anticipation of getting this over with.

The judge turned to him and asked if he'd had a chance to talk to his lawyer about the deal. Daryl responded that he had. He repeated a list of conditions like no drinking or drugs or getting into trouble. Daryl had no problem with that, especially with Merle sitting in jail for the next eighteen months, not around to pull him into some bullshit drama.

And that was that. He walked out of the courtroom with a new set of papers to add to his rolled up pile and his mysterious advocate in tow.

The two of them headed out into the hallway again and took a seat.

"Well, that was one of my better mornings in court. Let's hope my hearing this afternoon goes just as well." She stuffed the duplicate copy of his papers into his file and slid it into her briefcase. "Eli said that he'll call you later and I'll make sure to give him all the details of what happened here."

Daryl was still a little bit in shock. As she was pulling out another file, presumably for her afternoon case, he finally found his voice again. "Thank you. For steppin' in to help and everything."

She didn't look up at him but she smiled in that way of hers that he was beginning to really like. "I should be thanking you for putting my client at ease. It was good for him to see what to expect from me when it's his turn." Her amusement spilled over onto him as she rose to her feet. "I'll definitely be thanking you when Eli pays up for the favor he owes me." Daryl nodded and flashed her a small grin.

Sitting his papers to the side, Daryl rubbed his sweaty hands against his pants. "I know I sound simple askin' ya this seein' as how ya just saved my ass and all. But I don't think I even got your name."

The woman paused and then focused her attention on him. Daryl dropped his eyes to escape the directness of her stare. From what he could tell in that brief connection, she seemed worried or upset and he instantly felt bad for possibly causing that.

Shaking her head, she turned away. "My apologies, Mr. Dixon. This whole situation has been really unfortunate."

He didn't understand why she would possibly apologize to _him_. There had to be some kind of misunderstanding. He had a way of screwing things up even when he didn't mean to.

"Naw, it's cool. I mean, things should work out as long as I do my part."

"That's kind of you but it's still unacceptable for you to have so much confusion on a day like today." She closed her briefcase before shifting to face him once more, holding out her card. "After today it won't matter but you can just call me Michonne. Don't worry. You're already back in Eli's good hands."

He stood and took the card, remembering to offer her a handshake. It was with a bit of regret that he accepted never seeing her again. He had no intention of getting himself into more of this kind of trouble; he'd do his community service stint and be done with the whole fucked up situation.

Still, after how she'd gone to bat for him today, he wouldn't mind being in her hands again.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: Rest assured there are no more court scenes. I've had my fun. I may or may not squeeze another chapter out tonight. We'll see!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Michonne waved to the security guards working the metal detectors, noting the shorter than usual line at this hour. The halls behind her were similarly subdued, the only major sound being the drag of her rolling briefcase and the fading conversation between two clerks as they entered their office. Nevertheless, her Friday was a busy one, although, for once, most of her cases were pretty routine. She had four status appearances, a suppression hearing she would certainly lose and then it was back to the office to prepare for her trial beginning the following week. Hopefully, she could get a lot of prep work done at the office since her girls would unexpectedly be with her this weekend.

Leave it to her ex to disrupt their longtime schedule at the most inopportune times.

She didn't care why he needed to switch with her on the rotation—it probably had something to do with that twenty-three year old he was seeing. But, whatever the reason, it had required some shifting around of her plans to make sure she was spending enough quality time with her kids before she started a very stressful week.

Walking out of the courthouse, she headed to the park across the street and took a seat on a bench set back from the main path. It was an uncharacteristically mild day for the approaching summer; it would be unbearable this time next month. There weren't many people about either, most probably starting their weekend early. She sighed, longing for that luxury.

Opening her briefcase, she pulled out a stack of files and her pre-made meal: a sandwich she'd put together when packing the girls' lunch this morning and a container of fruit. It wasn't exactly a power lunch but it would do.

She poked at her food as she reviewed the necessary information for the afternoon's business. Her break spanned a good hour and a half before she was due back and she planned on taking as much advantage of her working lunch as possible. So lost in her world of caselaw and police reports, she didn't notice a man stroll towards her and then slowly approach upon recognizing her. When he got close enough to where his shadow lingered in her personal space, she popped her head up, lips downturned and irritated scowl partially hidden behind sunglasses. It was an intimidating greeting.

But instead of one of her many common annoyances, an overzealous prosecutor, a needy client or a colleague asking for a favor, she saw a familiar face, albeit less stressed than the last time she'd encountered him.

Dixon was his name if she recalled. Daryl Dixon.

She immediately relaxed and smiled in his direction. She felt a little bad when she realized how nervous she'd just made him with her stern scrutiny. He was dressed as she'd seen him before in slacks and a thick, button down shirt but with battered work boots at his feet. His tousled brown hair was uneven and fell in his eyes, tempting the impulse to brush it aside before he'd flick it away himself. A shaggy goatee covered his otherwise sweet-looking face. A country boy to his core.

"Well look who's out and about?" she offered, extending her hand. "Mr. Dixon right?"

Daryl stepped forward next to her and took her hand in a brief, firm shake as if he still wasn't used to such formalities—and he probably wasn't. "Just Daryl, ma'am."

Michonne rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and then lifted them onto her head so she could speak with him properly. "And it's just Michonne. What brings you here? Is everything going okay with your program? You haven't run into trouble?" She felt strangely invested in his case even though she'd only represented him for about half an hour. Miller hadn't mentioned anything but it's not like she saw the guy everyday.

Daryl shuffled from one foot to the other. "Naw, no trouble. Just gotta check in with the judge or somethin'; make sure I'm not cuttin' up I guess."

"Ah, status hearing. It's routine, don't worry. You'll be in and out." She tried not to chuckle as she recognized his fidgety nervousness. There was something quite endearing about her former client. "Have a seat, Daryl and tell me about your program."

Taking a step back, Daryl bowed his head and put his hands in his pocket. "I don't wanna interrupt. Looks like you're in the middle 'a somethin'."

She closed her folder and set it aside. "Nothing that can't wait a few minutes while I hear all the good stuff my hard work helped make happen."

Daryl took a seat at the end of her bench. "It did at that. I'm real grateful for your help. I didn't know it at the time but Eli told me later how good ya are. Not that I needed anyone to tell me that after how ya handled things."

Flattered, Michonne waved him off all the same. "Eli Miller messed up so he'd say anything. I hope he apologized to you. It's not okay to leave clients in a lurch like that."

"No, he was real sorry 'bout it. I heard he got in a spot 'a trouble too and I felt bad for 'em."

Michonne thought this Daryl Dixon was a real piece of work. Eli was right; he was one of the good guys that got caught up in a bad situation. It made her even more satisfied about the tongue-lashing Eli got for almost screwing up Dixon's case. In addition to taking her entire arraignment rotation last month, he'd been assigned extra Continuing Legal Education classes and put in charge of training the new interns.

"Don't feel too bad for that guy. He's fine. And he hasn't done it again so it served him right. Plus, I got to show him up which is always fun." That part of it had been especially gratifying. "And I got a few healthy servings of Macallan for my trouble so I should be thanking you."

Daryl whistled, impressed. "Nice. I'll stand by my local Georgia moonshine any day but that's a damn fine scotch; too rich for my blood."

Michonne nodded. "Mine too. Good thing Eli was paying." They both chuckled at that. "Where did you end up getting placed anyway?"

Daryl brightened at the mention of his community service work. "Eli got me a spot at this domestic violence shelter 'bout twenty minutes from my town. Sophia's Haven it's called."

That sounded familiar to Michonne but she couldn't place where she knew it from. If it was located as far out as where he lived, maybe it wouldn't be an organization she'd know off the top of her head.

"That's great. It sounds like it's working for you."

He turned away shyly, as if second-guessing his enthusiasm. "It's alright. I do a lot 'a the haulin' and cleanin' up for the folks that run it. It wadn't easy to get a spot there with my charges and all the background checks and stuff. But I picked it 'cause it's close to home and 'cause it seemed like a good cause." He paused, unsure. "My homelife wadn't the best growin' up with my old man beatin' on us in the house. My mom, my brother and I never got out 'a that but I thought it'd be nice to help out folks who have."

Accepting his admission, Michonne offered him a discrete smile. She didn't want to embarrass him further by making a big deal about it but she was moved that he'd shared his motivations with her.

"I'm sure they appreciate your help there and well worth the hard work to get a spot on their volunteer crew."

Daryl relaxed a little now that they could move on from such a personal reveal without a ton of questions. She had worked with different levels of abusers, many who had been abused themselves, and she had a good idea of when not to push. Besides, his past wasn't her business.

"I had to do all these interviews too and get 'a couple folks to vouch for me. The head of the place, Carol, she's real nice and we got on good right away. But these two volunteer cops put me through the ringer. They work in a neighboring town and are real protective so I understand why they gotta be hardasses. Rick, the head guy, is cool. His partner Shane just thinks I'm some redneck meth-head though. I might have a beer from time to time but I aint done drugs since I was a stupid kid."

Daryl tried to be dismissive of the criticism but that kind of thing had to hurt, folks not looking past the stereotypes. Michonne dealt with that everyday.

"I don't think I know those people," Michonne said, frowning. She tended to be familiar with the advocates involved in that type of work so it puzzled her that none of the names were ringing a bell even a little bit. "Anyway, it's pretty standard for places like that to be overly cautious and they made the right choice accepting your placement. They're lucky to have you."

She felt a little less bad about making him blush again because it was so damn adorable. He did have a charm about him. No wonder O'Conner, the D.A. on his case that day in court, had been so smitten with him. If she had to guess, the pretty prosecutor had probably kept the case even though monitoring probationers wasn't her department.

"Did you win your other case?" Daryl's questions returned her roving thoughts back to the man next to her. She frowned in confusion and he started to fidget again. For some reason, she intimidated him even though she was trying to be casual. She didn't mean to do that to people; it simply happened naturally for whatever reason. And no matter what he was like in his regular life, Daryl seemed like the skittish type when he was around her.

And asking about a case generally was kind of like asking if she'd seen a particular bird in the sky. There were so many cases on her plate right now, not to mention all the cases she'd handled in the past. Her mind once more flashed to all the work she had ahead of her this weekend.

"What other case?"

He glanced at her, eyes darting with nerves. "When you helped on my case, I thought ya said you had another one later on with that judge."

The memories from that day came back to her. "Oh yeah. I had a hearing that afternoon. I did win. We got the charges dropped after that. And he's not in danger of being deported anymore which is great. It wasn't a bad day for me. Maybe you were lucky, Daryl."

"I don't know 'bout that," he said. The idea made him chuckle and Michonne was glad that he'd relaxed a little. He glanced at the lunch she had been picking at as they talked and moved to get up. "I don't wanna take up anymore 'a your time. Just wanted to say thanks again."

Michonne picked up the folder she'd set aside, a reluctant but determined move. Running into Daryl Dixon had been a fun diversion but she really did have materials to go over before finishing up her afternoon.

"Not that I'm eager to get back to this. I'm glad you stopped though, Daryl. It's nice to hear that you're doing so well." So many of her clients rotated in and out of the system that it gave a shine to the job when she came across someone who was able to leave their mistakes behind. "Sometimes the bad things that happen in our lives are an opportunity to improve ourselves. I have a feeling you'll come out of this just fine and your life will be better for it with all the new people and experiences around you." When he met her gaze, she smiled as encouragingly as she good and pulled her sunglasses back down.

"I hope so. We'll see." He backed up and offered an awkward wave before heading to the courthouse entrance.

Michonne made a mental note to find out a little more aboutDaryl Dixon from Eli when she got back to the office. Shaking her head, she returned her attention to the paperwork in front of her and continued troubleshooting her busy day.

TBC …


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Daryl was stacking chairs in the main meeting area, cursing softly under his breath. He was relieved to finally clean up the large room after waiting around for the longest meeting of his life to end. He still had on his old grungy clothes from the auto body job he'd finished earlier in the day and he'd be happy to get home for a shower and a beer.

Thursday wasn't even his day to be at the shelter. He tried to do his shifts on the weekends because that's when they needed the most help and when his schedule was more flexible. But one of the other volunteers had a family emergency so Carol called to ask if he could step in. And Carol knew that she had him wrapped around her little finger so of course he'd agreed.

He didn't even really understand what the meeting had been about but apparently it happened every Thursday. It had something to do with a clinic but since he only set up and tore down for the meeting, he didn't know what that meant. He'd only stuck around for a few minutes after it started before going to find other things to do; he hadn't seen anyone who he took for a doctor or any kind of exam equipment. What did he know though?

All he knew was that he couldn't go home until the room was set back up its usual way and that any stray people roaming around got themselves back to the residence wing of the complex or otherwise out of the administrative building. Then he and Carol would lock up and leave together, Daryl making sure she made it to her car without incident. On the weekends, he'd occasionally join Carol and a couple of the other volunteers for a drink but it was only the two of them tonight and it was already late.

He and Carol had gotten on real well from the beginning. She'd seen something in him when he first applied to volunteer there and he didn't take that lightly as things like that almost never happened for him. During his interview with her, he'd been straight up about his family life growing up, the beatings and abandonment, the drug use and constant shaming.

She'd understood completely and had shared her story as well.

Carol started Sophia's Haven because of the abusive situation she and her daughter, Sophia, went through with her ex-husband. When she'd finally gotten the courage to take Sophia and leave for a shelter, it turned out to be too late. Her husband had caught her packing and beaten Carol so badly she spent two weeks in the hospital. Before she lost consciousness she'd managed to stab him with a butcher knife she'd struggled to reach during the fight. The injury had killed him, a clear self-defense case that kept her out of prison.

But when the shouting had started, Sophia hid away in her room as she always did. The yelling escalated to hitting and she had run from the house, panicked and terrified that she'd be next. The police searched for her while Carol lay in the hospital, hurting but relieved that her daughter hadn't been subjected to the same treatment. As the days stretched on with no word, she'd gone through her ups and downs but remained optimistic that the little girl would turn up or that someone would stumble upon her and take her to the police.

On the fifth day of her hospital stay, the police came to her room and told her that Sophia had been hit by a car not even an hour after she'd fled. She'd been dead and in the morgue as a Jane Doe the entire time that Carol had held out hope for her safety.

Carol hadn't imagined she'd be running Sophia's Haven a few years later but she felt it was her calling, the least she could do to honor her daughter for her perceived failure to keep her safe.

Daryl admired her strength and they could relate to each other in struggling to live a normal life while also being terribly broken in many ways. No matter how tough Carol was on herself about Sophia, no matter how hard she tried to compensate by providing for the people in their care, there was a lot about her he wished had been in his own mother. Maybe things would have turned out differently for him and Merle.

He'd seen Merle a couple of times since he'd been locked up and his older brother treated it as business as usual. That kind of attitude had always been his problem. It felt terrible to think but he was actually doing a lot better without Merle around to bring him down and tempt him into trouble. Daryl had been keeping a steady line of construction and mechanic jobs and not running with the usual losers at the bars on the weekends. He either spent his free time working community service hours for his case or just being at home to mind his business.

"Hey," Carol called out to him. Daryl lowered the chair he'd been carrying as his "boss" appeared at the doorway. "I just have a few things to close out in my office and then I'll be done. I know the clinic went long today and I'm sorry about that."

Daryl continued stacking the chairs. He was annoyed but he wouldn't take it out on Carol. "It's fine. Didn't have nothin' to do tonight no-way."

"No hot dates?" she asked with a wicked grin. It surprised him the few times she got flirty. He didn't know if he should take her seriously or not and it made him a little uncomfortable. He liked her a lot but getting on with women wasn't exactly his strong point.

He shot her an exasperated look but it held no real bite. "Who the hell is goin' out on a Thursday night?"

She laughed at his expression. "All the kids are, Daryl. Get with the times. Thursday's the new Friday."

"Whatever," he said, rolling his eyes. "Why don't ya stick to your day job so we can get the hell outta here?"

"Alright, alright." She ducked back out of the doorway and he heard the soft click of her shoes against the tiled floor as she retreated.

Daryl finished clearing the meeting room and then rearranged the furniture back to how it was supposed to be. He also started rearranging the pile of boxes in the back of the room that he'd pulled out earlier in the evening. He was going to have to go through the contents over the weekend so he figured he'd get a head start while Carol finished up. After about ten minutes, he heard some commotion coming from the distance and scurried across the room to check it out. The only people in the building should be him and Carol and the overnight security guard, Otis. Maybe Otis and Carol were meeting about something but it was best to be safe given the crazy ass men that came around trying to cause trouble.

However, when he got to the doorway, he heard a laugh—Carol's distinctive cackle—and further quiet chatter. Relaxing, he went back to his work, now irritated that Carol was yakking it up with whoever instead of trying to get the hell out of here. He still had another twenty minute drive to get home and even though the traffic would be light right about now, he wasn't about lingering if he didn't have to.

A light tap on the doorframe got his attention and he jumped. Instantly pissed at Carol or Otis for sneaking up on him, Daryl whirled around with a scowl on his face and an aggressive posture. As his temper flared, he readied himself to give either one of them a piece of his mind.

What he saw froze him in his tracks. His shock was mirrored on the face across the room, although it was instantly replaced with a sly smile.

Michonne.

Everything about her was as he remembered. She still wore one of those business suits of hers, looking intimidating as hell. But instead of heels, she was wearing sneakers. The casualness of the look kind of suited her, he thought. Her dreadlocked hair, that had been pulled back in court, now hung free. And she didn't have a massive briefcase on wheels and a file in each hand; her usual gear was replaced with a stylish purse hanging open on her arm as if she'd been digging through it moments before.

"Daryl Dixon, isn't it?"

Daryl recovered and was now grinning in her direction despite himself. "As I live and breathe. Ms. Michonne." She waved off his mock formality and he felt a bit of satisfaction at finally ruffling her feathers.

It's not that he'd spent a lot of energy thinking about her since she'd handled his case in court or since he'd run into her on his way to a status hearing. His mind did wander to her from time to time though.

There weren't a whole lot of people he'd come across who he felt comfortable with after such a short time. Usually it took a while for him to warm up and certainly not with someone so different. She was educated and had a good job and probably had money since she seemed so put together; and he'd be lying if he didn't acknowledge the divide of her being black. His brother and father were racist as hell and Daryl had sometimes followed suit so as not to cause trouble for himself. He wasn't proud of that; it was just the reality of things. And it's not like he ever really bought into their foolishness about different races or foreigners and stuff. Hell, working construction, you saw guys all the time who didn't speak English or who were poor like him just from another kind of town. It didn't mean they weren't hard workers trying to make a better life. He got along with anybody who treated him square.

Just like he'd gotten along with Michonne. Except his acceptance of her had been much quicker and a lot stronger than normal.

There had been something about the way she treated him, so respectful and kind-hearted, that it made him want to trust her. The first thing he noticed about her was her fierceness. Later, he reasoned that getting on the wrong side of her would result in a world of pain. But you could tell she was classy too, not some bully. He'd been anxious about seeing the judge again that day he saw her in front of the courthouse and talking with her had calmed him right down.

The fact that she was pretty easy on the eyes might have understandably escaped his notice the first time they met. But he sure as hell picked up on it at their second meeting.

And he noticed now.

"What finds you in my neck 'a the woods? Eli send ya to check up on me?" Closing the box he'd been working in earlier, Daryl strolled over to where she stood at the entrance to the room.

Michonne scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not his favorite client or anything," she playfully countered. "Actually, I was here for the clinic earlier. Now that I think about it, I completely forgot that you told me you were volunteering here."

There was a bit of disappointment hearing that she hadn't remembered. He dismissed it as foolish. Of course, she wouldn't remember. She probably had hundreds of clients and who was he to her? Hell, he'd never really been her client. And he hadn't even remembered her name for most of the time they'd worked together.

Putting off the slight irritation, he concentrated on the part of her explanation that could be of some use.

"It's a good thing I ran into ya 'cause now you can explain what the hell kinda clinic this is. Aint no medical stuff in sight and ya don't look like no doctor to me." He accompanied his words with a sweep of his eyes up and down her body. He hoped she didn't misinterpret his intentions—or rather that she didn't intuit them. Daryl had no idea where he was getting all this confidence to talk to her like he was. All he could think was that she had a way about her that relaxed him even if he came off as a fidgety idiot.

Her laugh at his question hung between them, amused but not mocking his ignorance and genuine curiosity. He raised an eyebrow in expectation though. He really did want to know.

She readjusted her bag and leaned into the doorframe. "It's a legal clinic. Twice a month, a group of lawyers and law students come out to help the women here with getting restraining orders or deal with family court issues. I normally volunteer at the Atlanta shelter but one of the lawyers couldn't make it out here tonight so I subbed in."

"Aint that somethin'," he said cracking a smile.

"What?"

Curiosity looked cute on her. Daryl mentally sassed himself for the thought though. He really needed to stop thinking about her like that.

"It's just I usually don't work on Thursdays but I'm clockin' in for somebody else too."

"Well aren't we just a bunch of suckers," she said laughing.

"Hey, you the one aint gettin' compensated. Far as I know, you keep gettin' roped into a lot of shit you aint signed up for."

She sighed. "That is the truth. I still have a forty minute drive home. At least I didn't get too far before I realized I left my cell phone here. Carol was kind enough to stay until I could circle back."

Daryl flashed her a playful glare. "So you the reason she's been takin' so long? I was gonna fuss at her for draggin' her ass but now I can just fuss at you."

Not seeming the least bit put out by his teasing, Michonne walked past him to look around for her missing phone. After a few seconds of searching, she pulled it out of a drawer in one of the desks he'd moved back into place a few minutes before. Returning to his side, she dropped the phone in her bag and smiled at him. Daryl decided that she had one of his favorite smiles.

"Well, do not let me keep you any longer. I will be on my way."

Daryl panicked a bit. He hadn't meant to imply he was rushing her. In fact, he enjoyed her company and was looking for reasons to hold onto it for a little while longer. He shuffled and bowed his head for a moment, now more shy than he'd been with her for the entire encounter.

"I gotta wait on Carol anyway. Make sure she gets to her car okay after lockin' up."

Michonne nodded, no smile though to his disappointment. "That's sweet, Daryl. You're still playing in the good guy league." He pulled at his beard, a nervous reaction to enjoying her attention. "I know I said it before, but I'm really glad things are working out for you. How much longer do you have on your probation?"

He felt his cheeks become a little warmer for her praise. "Another month or so. I'm thinkin' 'a stayin' on though. The folks here are doing good work and I like havin' somethin' to do with my free time that's worth somethin'.

"Even if you 'aint gettin' paid'?" she teased, a small grin escaping her lips.

"Even so. Sometimes you gotta step up and do what needs doin'."

This time, she did smile at him and it was even more brilliant this close up. "Indeed Daryl Dixon. Indeed." They stood beside each other for a few beats in companionable agreement. It felt nice.

Michonne straightened and shook her head a bit as if shedding her stray thoughts. "Anyway, I should get going and I'll let you get going too. You can go tell Carol to stop working so hard." She cocked her head to the side. "I can't believe I didn't put two and two together when I met Carol last month. This place sounded familiar when you mentioned it to me because the place I work out of in Atlanta does a lot of joint projects here."

"That's nice," Daryl responded, not sure what to say now that their conversation was coming to an end. "Maybe I'll run into ya again then." He hoped his voice hadn't betrayed his anticipation over the idea. But Michonne only grinned and nudged him in the arm.

"You never know." Daryl returned her good humor with a smirk of his own.

"Hey, Michonne, did you find your—oh!" Carol wandered into the room, her own bag slung on her arm probably ready to lock up. She eyed him and then swung her gaze to Michonne, curiosity written all over her face. He and Michonne didn't look like two awkward strangers searching the room for a lost item but rather old friends catching up. "I see you found Daryl."

"I did. Daryl and I are old friends, aren't we? I did him a favor a while back." He rolled his eyes at her although his amusement shone through. "I should have realized he was the volunteer you were referring to when you sent me to find him."

Carol continued to stare at the two. "Hmm, small world then." Daryl was having a hard time reading her tone. It wasn't unfriendly. The two women seemed chatty enough as they all walked towards the exit together. But her reaction held a certain guardedness to it. He wondered if she had a problem with him talking to an outside volunteer or if she was just irritated at having to stay late because of Michonne's cell phone mishap.

If Michonne picked up on it, she ignored it. "Thanks for saving me an extra trip, Carol. I'll drop off those files to Sasha tomorrow and hopefully Andrea will be back on rotation next month. Sorry for the last minute change."

Daryl vaguely remembered Andrea. Blonde, kinda cute but also a little bossy. He'd had a drink with her once when Rick and Carol and Shane had gone out after work. She was okay.

Carol's mood returned to the normal friendliness that he was used to. "I'm just returning the favor since you're saving me the trouble of trying to get those to Sasha tomorrow. I should be thanking you anyway. We had a lot of people here this week and you were kind to stay the extra hour. I know our residents really appreciate your help."

"It's not a problem. Feel free to call me if you need a hand." Nodding a farewell to Otis as they left, Michonne turned to him finally. "See you around, Dixon. Stay out of trouble."

"For the next six weeks, you got it. Then all bets are off," he joked. Again, he found himself charmed by her mock annoyance.

Carol was locking up and he waited for her to finish to make their usual trek to her car. Before he could wonder if he should be doing the same for Michonne, he caught her already halfway down the block, unlocking and climbing into a dark SUV. Of course, a woman like her didn't need an escort. He would have liked to offer it anyway.

As he watched her drive away, Carol stepped up beside him, her oddness returning as she followed his line of vision. "Do I want to hear how you know her?"

Daryl shrugged. "Aint no big deal. She helped out with my case when my other lawyer got caught up on somethin' else. She's real good. And she's right, she did save my ass."

"Ah," Carol replied. "I can believe that. She was great with our ladies tonight. I really like Andrea but I wish we could steal her away too to work with our clients. Oh well. I guess we'll have to settle for tonight." They turned around and walked the short distance to where her car was parked a few spots down from his.

Daryl grunted his agreement. He figured he should shrug the whole chance encounter off since, no matter what she said, he wasn't likely to run into her again by luck. He was in awe of her a bit but a lady like that was so out of his league. Besides, he was terrible with women; had no game at all. There was no way he'd ever have the courage to try to get with her—or any woman he'd come across since getting arrested and trying to get his life in order.

Despite that, he had the urge to take the chance factor out of their meetings and find a way to run into her again.

TBC …

* * *

**_AN: Here's wishing everyone a happy new year! Cheers!_**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Adjusting her eyes to the dim light, Michonne stepped into the cavernous room.

The holiday fundraiser to benefit area domestic violence shelters overflowed with festively dressed corporate types. The band in the corner played inoffensive holiday music and up on the second level, a buffet of appetizers catered to the beautifully adorned partygoers. As she passed through the crowd, Michonne noted the elaborate decorations and intricate place settings meant to impress the discerning deep-pocket types in the room. Back at the entrance, there were gift bags waiting to be distributed for when guests were done enjoying the evening. It was conveniently located next to the donation table.

Most importantly, there were several bars set up at the corners of the room and Michonne headed straight for the nearest one.

Parties and mixers had never been her thing but she'd promised Sasha an appearance on behalf of the shelter. Andrea was supposed to meet her there too but since the first days of their acquaintance, she'd come to realize that her friend found it very difficult to be on time for anything non-work related. They'd initially met through the women's bar association and working at the shelter—Andrea had volunteered at the Atlanta non-profit before switching to Sophia's Haven when she'd bought a house out in the suburbs. They hung out pretty often, going out for drinks or indulging in an afternoon of shopping. Or at least they had until very recently when she'd gotten herself a new boyfriend.

Thus, Andrea probably wouldn't be great company since she was bringing said new boyfriend, Phillip, tonight and Michonne didn't much care for him. For one thing, Andrea had met him when her firm investigated his company in a gender discrimination lawsuit. The organization had settled but Michonne found it strange that Andrea would want to date a man who would be involved in that kind of legal trouble. When Andrea mentioned the case, she'd researched it in a moment of boredom and hadn't liked what she saw. It seems that her Phillip had blamed any failed protocols on his late brother—but his brother had passed away from a prolonged illness right before the suit was filed. Michonne found it hard to believe that a terminally ill CEO would have been on the job during the time of the allegations, much less knowledgable about a discrimination matter involving departments he didn't normally deal with on a day to day basis. For Phillip to pawn off the blame onto his dead brother struck Michonne as rather tasteless.

However, she didn't know any inside details of the situation so it wasn't her place to put too much judgment on the man's shoulders about it. More persuasive was that the first time she'd met him during happy hour a few weeks ago, he had just rubbed her the wrong way—too slick and charming not to be suspicious. When she'd mentioned her impression, Andrea accused her of being paranoid and an overprotective friend. Couldn't Michonne just let her fall in love? So Michonne let her be.

Watching as the crowd milled about, Michonne ordered a scotch at the bar and immediately second-guessed her choice to go so hardcore at the beginning of the night. Shrugging, she took a sip. It was a nice scotch, one she hadn't tried before. She was going to need the comfort to get through the evening.

It had crossed her mind to bring a date but there wasn't anyone in the picture she could see inviting to something like this without it being a big deal. There had been a few social engagements recently with Mike, one of the bailiffs at the courthouse. She liked him well enough but neither seemed too interested in officially dating since they worked together, more or less.

As she looked around, she finally saw Sasha in deep conversation with two older men in nicely tailored suits. From the look of things, she was charming them senseless. Sasha was good at that; she had the personality to get pretty much anything she wanted. Michonne had joked that it was fortunate that she used her powers for such a good cause. Instead of being a shill for big business she squeezed as much money as she could from their pockets to benefit women in need. Directing her attention to another part of the room, Michonne also recognized Carol Peletier who ran her shelter's sister site, Sophia's Haven. She was similarly engaged in an intense conversation although with a much different tone. Her three companions, two women and a man, were hanging off of her every word as if she were telling the world's best anecdote—and perhaps she was.

Spotting Carol, brought her thoughts to Daryl Dixon, another volunteer she knew from Sophia's Haven. She smiled to herself thinking of the bashful man that she'd come to like quite a bit.

To her perplexing enjoyment, they had run into each other several more times as she covered Andrea's clinic shifts while her friend was in trial. And Daryl and his colleague had permanently switched so that he could work on Thursdays. He told her that the Thursday shift actually worked better with his schedule but she secretly and a little foolishly wondered if he'd done it on purpose to hang out with her more often. He was an easygoing kind of guy and he really took his volunteer duties seriously. These past few weeks, Carol said he'd been a regular fixture there even though his charges had been dismissed and his record on its way to being expunged. That kind of good-hearted devotion was a rare find.

Michonne even popped into his courtroom to see the judge dismiss his case and commend Daryl on his success in the program. Carol and Rick had given him glowing progress reports and Eli had even reigned in his smugness over the victory. Through it all, Daryl kept his cool, embarrassed and reserved. She could tell that he was proud at what he achieved though. Before slipping out to return to her own caseload, she'd flashed him a congratulatory smile as she passed through the door.

Something about his unintentional charm and awkward disposition drew her to him. She liked how straightforward and hardworking he was. He wasn't much for complaining about his circumstances despite the unfair hand he'd been dealt in many ways. He simply kept his head down and did what was asked of him. Now that he'd gotten a little confidence at the shelter, he'd started taking the initiative, proposing improvements and projects that would make things easier for them.

She didn't expect to see him at a function like this; he'd probably hate all the pretense and bombast of it. But she reminded herself to ask Carol how he was doing. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she took another look around the room to figure out which tedious conversation to join.

After wandering around for a while, she saw Rick and Shane chatting with a petite brunette, Rick's wife Lori probably. She went to say hello and they spent a while having pleasant conversation and getting to know each other out of an official setting. It wasn't her usual M.O. to be so chummy with law enforcement, though the two cops seemed like pretty good guys. Rick's wife had been a bit quiet but she also seemed nice enough.

Excusing herself, she did a bit more mingling to butter up a few patrons for Sasha; her efforts were met with approval when she'd spotted the woman leading a donor to the bar.

Finally Andrea arrived with her date and waved to Michonne from the upper level where they were sampling the appetizers. Heading for the stairs, Michonne took a deep breath to prepare for what was likely to be an uncomfortable encounter with Andrea's boyfriend. At least she'd be able to busy herself with eating—and that was a good thing since she was thinking of getting started on her second scotch.

A cold, hard object hit her arm and she turned to scowl and the offending party.

"Sorry 'bout that," a familiar voice said. Poking his head from around the big cooler of ice, she watched as his stormy, blue eyes shifted from surprise to a devilish delight at seeing her. "Oh, it's you. I take back my apology." His jest was accompanied by that grin that was so disarming; a grin that Michonne replicated, so thrilled at the unexpected encounter.

Even holding the bulky cooler, she could see that he was dressed in slacks with a crisp white dress shirt and tie, now being crushed against the heavy box. It was a bit of a shock to see him in such formal wear, and a nice one at that.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He shifted the cooler in his arms and gestured for her to follow him. "Makin' a few bucks by helpin' out. Carol told me 'bout the gig and so far it's been a pretty sweet way to make some money, 'cept for these clothes they got me wearin'."

Michonne got a good look at him from behind and was rather pleased with what she saw. "I don't know, I think you look pretty sharp." He shook his head at her and, as they arrived at the bar, Daryl took the ice around to the back and dumped it in the built-in drawer for reserve. While he was arranging the other supplies, Michonne ordered another scotch. She'd really have to go put something in her stomach at this pace.

When Daryl rejoined her, Michonne was sporting a smirk for him.

"I think what you're not telling me is that Carol asked you to lend a hand and you were unable to resist her. And I'm the sucker?"

Daryl grinned at their running joke. "Woman, you aint one to say nothin' 'bout me. I bet Sasha talked you into gettin' all dolled up so you could sweet talk all these fancy rich folks. You still the first in line to do shit you aint gettin' paid for." He stepped aside a bit to take in her appearance and whistled with appreciation. She wore a simple tailored dress that fell at the knee. It wasn't as high fashion as what some of the other women wore; it made up for that by exuding holiday classiness. Her hair was pulled back in a simple twist but her makeup and jewelry added some sparkle.

Realizing how forward he'd been, Daryl tensed a little. "Sorry. I meant no disrespect." He ran nervous fingers through his hair. "You look nice is all." He needn't have bothered with the apology. She was flattered by his uninhibited response.

Michonne took Daryl's arm and he stiffened in surprise before letting her drag him to the stairwell. She reasoned that it was the alcohol guiding her movements but she rather liked the feel of him against her and he didn't seem to mind.

"It's fine. I already ogled you, remember?" She felt warm from his attention and from the alcohol in her system.

Daryl seemed amused as he picked up on her slight tipsiness. "Somebody's in a good mood. Must be some mighty fine hooch."

Nodding, Michonne offered him her glass but he declined. He was on the clock after all. "Trust me, I need it to get through this evening." Their walk up the steps kept getting interrupted by a steady stream of partygoers descending in the opposite direction. The band had switched over to a DJ and many were eager to hit the dance floor. When they reached the second level, Michonne easily found Andrea and her date cuddling in a corner seating area. Reluctantly, she let go of Daryl.

"I've gotta go play nice with Andrea and her date." Daryl spotted Andrea, noting where Michonne's attention had shifted, and he waved.

"She still with that uptight prick? I've only met him once and that was enough for me. Good luck with that. Tell her I said hey but don't tell her I think her boyfriend's an asshole."

Michonne giggled, just short of snorting, no thanks to the alcohol. Daryl raised an eyebrow at her and Michonne laughed harder. "I couldn't help it. I don't like that guy either. He's creepy. You can't tell her anything though." Daryl shrugged. "Hey, if they let you go early or you get some down time, come save me please."

Daryl chuckled. "I got my eye on ya, don't worry. Catch you later," and then he got lost in the crowd, offering her an adorable smile over his shoulder before disappearing.

Michonne grabbed some food and joined her friend and date for what turned into a mildly amusing if not boring half an hour of conversation. It was clear that she and Phillip were never going to be buddies but they both made an effort for Andrea's sake.

Rick, Shane and Lori joined them and she and Rick got to talking and really developing a rapport. Even though she was responsible for defending the kind of people he brought in for wrong-doing, they expressed their respect for the role each played in the system. While Lori and Andrea engaged in a slightly drunken fight about gender roles and Shane and Phillip bonded over their love for MMA fights, she and Rick talked about the different stressors of their jobs and how they balanced that with their family life. In a hushed voice, he revealed that it was sometimes tough on other personal relationships like marriage. Michonne could relate as a divorcee and it seemed that Rick was implying that not all was running smoothly in his home either.

He mentioned the tough times when you'd imagine that mentor or loved one in front of you, trying to get you to do right and Michonne similarly talked of that little voice in her head that kept her sane when the pressures of her daily choices became overwhelming. They understood each other too well.

And then Carol stopped by to say hello and grab Michonne and Andrea to chat up some donors. Another round of meeting and greeting resumed.

A couple hours of schmoozing later, Michonne found herself a little lost after hunting around for the bathroom. She could hear the music from the party still going strong despite the hour approaching midnight. The fundraiser seemed to be a success and people were having a really good time. Against her expectations, she was having a nice time too mingling with other philanthropic types and making new contacts. She'd lost Andrea a while ago but the last time she checked, Sasha and Carol were still working the room.

The highlights were the few times when Daryl appeared at her side to rescue her from some drunken reveler or tease her as he was running errands or refilling supplies.

The dark hallways in the back all looked alike and she had gotten turned around, finding herself by what appeared to be administrative offices. Turning another unknown corner, she walked right into the chest of a tall, sturdily built man: Andrea's boyfriend, Phillip.

He smiled in surprise and Michonne stepped back, catching her breath from the impact. "Where's the fire?" Although he probably thought he was being nice, his cheery drawl and accompanying leer were shady as hell to her.

"Sorry. I got lost on my way from the bathroom." Looking over her shoulder, she tried to see if that was the way back onto the main floor. Phillip stepped in to block her line of sight.

"It does get a little confusing around here, especially after you've had a few." He rattled his tumbler, the ice clinking lightly in the empty glass.

Michonne moved to step around him. "That reminds me that I need to get a refill myself. Excuse me." He blocked her path again and Michonne's brow furrowed in irritation. She was going to be pissed if this fool ruined her good mood.

"Oh no, that's a dead end down there. You need to go back the other way." He grabbed her arm and moved her deeper into the cavernous labyrinth of hallways.

If there was one thing in this world that a man should know not to do, it's grab a woman and lead her down a dark hallway. "I just came from there," she responded shortly, pulling her arm away.

Phillip raised his hands defensively, still swinging around the tumbler. "Hey, I'm just trying to help out. I know we haven't had the easiest time getting along but it's almost a new year. We should turn over a new leaf." Instead of backing off as he should have, he reached around to grab her waist and pull her closer to him. The force of it propelled her into his embrace with her arms instinctively rising to pull away. Phillip took the opportunity to lean in and whisper in her ear. "Maybe we can get to know each other a little better, hmm? Me, you and Andrea could have a lot of fun together." He dropped one hand from her waist to grab her backside, groping her while trying to push her into his groin. He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck and Michonne recoiled.

She shoved at his chest attempting to counteract the much stronger force he was exerting against her. He only laughed at her efforts. "Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly, get into the holiday spirit. There are plenty of sexy bells to jingle if we play our cards right."

He was stumbling into her now and with him off balance, Michonne was able to break free. After she'd removed his hand from her ass and created some distance, she slapped him across the cheek. Hard. For good measure she took the glass from his hand and threw the melting ice in his face, stinging his eye and causing him to shout out.

Yet he still mocked her as if she were a petulant child. "Well, you're no fun, are you?" He rubbed at his reddening eye and swollen cheek and his nonchalance filled Michonne with rage. She opened her mouth to tear into him but was interrupted by another, familiar voice.

"What the hell is going on here?" Andrea was looking from one to the other with a growing irritation. And by the sway to her stance, she wasn't exactly sober either.

"What's going on is that you should tell your man to keep his hands to himself." Andrea folded her arms and shifted her focus to the dripping, stumbling man in front of her.

Shaking his head, he shuffled to stand beside his girlfriend. "Just an accident and misunderstanding. We've all had a bit to drink after all. Michonne, I didn't mean to make you feel unsafe."

He knew how to think on his feet, she'd give him that.

"I don't think your hand on my ass and implying we should have a threesome with your girlfriend is a harmless misunderstanding."

Phillip glared at her for a moment before turning to Andrea. "Baby, nothing like that even remotely happened. I didn't want to bring it up tonight but you know I don't even like her and you also know she doesn't like me. And why would I bother when I've got a good thing going with someone I really care about?"

Andrea scrutinized him with hazy eyes for a few moments. Michonne hoped she was seeing through his bullshit.

Instead, she threw her arms out and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm not in the mood to referee the two of you. Let's get out of here, Phillip."

"Excuse me?" Michonne said. "That's all you have to say about that?"

Andrea twirled around, tottering a bit to the side with the effort. "What do you want me to say, Mich'?" she slurred. "You two don't get along, I get it, but he's not some boogeyman. Whatever happened, he said he was sorry."

Michonne could not believe it. Her friend was taking some asshole's side over hers. Even more maddening was Phillip's smirk as he led Andrea away, dismissive and smug. Fuck both of them for that. She felt like she wanted to stab something she was so mad.

Waiting a few minutes to calm down, Michonne weaved her way back into the main party room. She headed for the nearest bar even though she had the overwhelming urge to call it a night after what just happend. Instead, she reasoned she may as well have a cocktail because she didn't trust herself to drive given how livid her mood had turned. The glowing lights and festive décor now only irritated her.

Downing her first drink, she immediately ordered another and headed for the upper level to find a corner and stew.

TBC …


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Daryl had been looking all over for Michonne. He'd seen her about twenty minutes before when he pointed her towards the bathroom. Now he was starting to dread that maybe she'd bailed on him, although that didn't seem like something she'd do.

He'd just finished his shift for the night, opting not to take the cleanup shift since he'd been up since the early morning to do set up. Carol had told him it was fine for him to relax and enjoy the party; he'd gotten to chat with her for a few minutes but it was essentially a work event for her. Even now, he could see her sitting with a few older looking do-gooders, laughing over a drink about something or another. He'd been real thankful for the tip about making the extra money. He was saving up for a motorcycle and this side job would help.

This late in the evening, Daryl was surprised how many people remained at the party. However, the dance floor was full of revelers and the bars were still in full swing. The kitchen had closed about an hour before but the catering staff still rolled out several easy to clean trays of desserts for people to snack on.

Working the event had been a real eye opener about how the other half lived. People were wearing all kinds of jewelry and fancy outfits. They'd rolled up in their shiny cars and dropped twenty dollar tips all night right before signing huge checks to help out the shelter. He thought their generosity a good thing but it was a trip to him for sure.

And it had been a nice surprise to see Michonne not in work mode. Or maybe "surprise" wasn't the right word to describe the anticipation of bumping into her in the crowd. When Carol told him abut the catering gig, he'd thought it sounded like easy money. He hadn't lied to Michonne about that. Nor had he lied about doing Carol a favor.

But also on his mind had been noticing Michonne's name on the guest list. Providing his services for the evening was a chance to see her again now that she'd stopped picking up Andrea's clinic shifts.

Then, he'd practically made a clown of himself tripping over his tongue when he got a good eye on how she'd cleaned up for the occasion. It wasn't as over the top as some of the outfits other women were wearing but she looked absolutely gorgeous to him. Seeing her bare shoulders and smooth, toned legs in that dress was a thing of beauty. With the makeup and the little bit of jewelry she wore, it was like her skin glowed or something.

It wasn't as if he had a chance with her; maybe that's why he was so open to teasing her and joking around. Otherwise, the pressure of trying to impress her would kick in and he'd only make himself seem like a fool. Maybe she had no interest in men like him, blue collar or white or criminals—she could take her pick on the ways he differed from who she probably went for in a guy. Women were such a mystery to him. Outside of the floozies who made the first move to get into his pants, he was terrible at any interaction that didn't involve a roll in the hay. And with Michonne, sex was only one of the many ways he found the idea of being with her so appealing.

He and Michonne were friendly though. When she did the clinic, she always helped him clean up and break down the room so he and Carol could leave sooner. They'd go about it as if they'd been partnering up for years, often not a word spoken between them. She'd ask about his brother and he'd ask about her daughters; she'd tell him humorous stories about his former attorney. When they did make conversation, she never made him feel dumb or talked like she was smarter than him even though he'd seen up close how brilliant she was. That's the first thing he'd liked about her all those months ago when they'd been in court—she treated him with respect. There weren't too many people in his life that had given him that kind of benefit of the doubt.

She'd been a little tipsy when he'd first seen her tonight and it was an amusing, slightly arousing sight. Recalling that encounter and the few times he'd caught her throughout the night made him anxious to locate her in the bustling crowd. Another walkthrough of the upper level paid off as he saw her slumped down in the corner by herself nursing a generous glass of scotch.

"There ya are. Been lookin' all over for ya." He slipped into the seat beside her on the small couch. "I hope you're going easy on those. Don't wanna have to carry ya outta here." Finally getting a good look at her, he scowled and started to worry. "What's wrong, Michonne."

She took another sip of her scotch and sighed. There was no response to his question yet without any notice or expectation, she simply lay her head on his shoulder and leaned into him. The feel of her warm, petite body next to his caused him to panic and rejoice at the same time. She also took his hand and he could feel her shaking against him. Any discomfort at having her so close was overcome by his concern and impulse to protect her despite knowing how strong she was on her own.

"Hey now," he soothed. "Tell me what happened?"

Placing her glass on the low table in front of the couch, she curled up further into him; he let go of her hand to put an arm around her. The move felt a bit awkward to him but she didn't appear to notice. He reached for her again with his free hand and she took it, holding on tightly.

"What happened is that Andrea's boyfriend is an asshole, just like you said." That wasn't news to Daryl. He'd almost gotten into it with the guy when he'd come by to pick up Andrea after one of her clinic days, all storming in trying to run shit. He hated dudes like that who thought they could boss him around because they made more money or drove a nicer car. Instead of fussing with the guy, he just left the room. He hadn't needed any trouble when he was so close to getting his case thrown out.

"You finally get into it with him? I'm sure he deserved it whatever you told him, I don't care what Andrea got to say on it."

Michonne huffed. "Some help she was. I thought she was my friend but more than that, I thought she was someone who wouldn't put up with a bullshit artist and predator like that guy."

Daryl could sense the anger coming off her in waves. Her body was tightly wound against him and she kept reaching for her scotch before pulling away at the last second, as if stopping herself from downing the whole thing. "Why don't ya give me an idea 'a what went down with y'all."

She raised her head from his shoulder and sat up a little straighter as if summoning the energy to relay her story. "There's not much to it. He had too much to drink, cornered me by the bathroom, grabbed my ass and slobbered all over me, talking about threesomes and having some fun together." It was Daryl's turn to stiffen, outrage flaring to life on her behalf. "I clocked him and threw his drink in his eye and he just laughed."

Daryl's temper erupted and he felt his hands ball into fists. That son of a bitch! He wanted to go find that fucker and beat his ass. He dropped her hand and started to slide out of the couch to go look for the man and give him a piece of his mind—and maybe a piece of his fist too.

Michonne grabbed onto him, tightening her hold and halting his movement. "They're already gone."

Throwing himself back into his seat, Daryl tried to reign in his anger. "He's damn lucky 'bout that otherwise he'd find himself in a spot 'a trouble with me. He aint got no cause puttin' his hands on a woman like that."

"Hey," she chastised. "I appreciate your concern. You have no idea how grateful I am for that right now. But don't go risking yourself over assholes like him, especially when you just got off probation." She squeezed his knee and it calmed him even as it prompted a throbbing desire in the pit of his stomach. "You're better than that, Daryl."

She had a point even if he wasn't about hearing it right now with the anger percolating inside him. Having Michonne shivering with rage in his arms, he realized he was more useful staying with her anyway. It's where he preferred to be, truth be told.

Noticing that he'd been shaking his foot in agitation, he willed himself to remain still and looked down into her face, resting along his arm. "Did you tell Andrea?"

Scoffing in disgust, she nodded. "She practically walked in on the whole thing. Phillip played all nice and innocent and she was so drunk she believed him; she told me that his bullshit apology should have been enough to satisfy the situation. Well, she can kiss my ass with that reasoning." Michonne leaned back against him again, deflated but defiant. "He's going to hurt her. I know he is but I feel like there's nothing I can do about it, or want to because I'm so angry with the both of them right now."

He rubbed her shoulder, hopefully offering some comfort.

The story left him dumbfounded. The guy had struck Daryl as a grade A jerk but this exceeded all the warning signs. Glancing down at her, he marveled at how determined she seemed and genuinely sad for her friend. Michonne was a good person and didn't deserve this kind of crap. Still, he was unsure how to make her feel better or what he should say.

One important detail was on his mind though. "He didn't hurt ya did he?" There was a fear to asking the question and he couldn't settle himself not knowing.

Michonne squeezed his hand. "No, he didn't. Just pissed me off." The intense relief at hearing that surprised him.

They sat for a while watching the party continue around them. Michonne sipped from her drink and Daryl caressed her hand or her shoulder every once in a while. A few times, her eyelashes brushed against his cheek reminding him how close they were. He tried not to fidget too much at the feel of her breath against his neck. Instead, he kept his cool, enjoying the weight of her in his arms and trying to wipe away the slimy touch of Andrea's boyfriend.

Seeing the contents of the snack table dwindling. He made a trip over and grabbed some mini-desserts for the two of them to share. They didn't return to their earlier embrace but they stayed close to each other. It didn't seem awkward which Daryl was thankful for.

"Oh, I meant to tell you," she said out of nowhere. "I'm going to be in your neck of the woods tomorrow. I promised my girls we'd go get a Christmas tree and there's a farm over there that Sasha's brother recommended."

Daryl perked up at the news. "Yeah, I know the place. It's out at Ole Man Weston's farm. His son runs it now and I came up with 'em back in the day. Don't tell him ya know me though, he might charge ya extra." Jimmy Weston was a shrewd, grumpy sum'bitch. They didn't dislike each other per se but the guy did have a deep hatred for his brother after Merle rammed into his brand new truck a few years ago.

Michonne laughed and Daryl brightened to hear it. "I can't imagine why he wouldn't be as charmed by you as I am. Besides, you're back to being a model citizen and who doesn't love that?"

He stopped breathing, wondering if it was the alcohol talking or if she actually meant that.

Nudging him with her elbow, she used his stunned silence to steal the cookie he'd grabbed from the plate they shared. He shook himself back into focus and poked her right back. But he reached over for a replacement cookie rather than fighting her over the one she'd stolen.

"I'm serious. He's got longtime issues with Merle. Can't say I blame him but guilty by association you know." That was the deal with a lot of people who knew his brother. He'd stopped trying to apologize and atone in place of him a long time ago.

Snacking on the cookie, she finished it and then grabbed for a piece of fruit. She'd gone quiet, deep in thought if he had to guess. "I was thinking that if you weren't busy, maybe you could join us?" There must have been an intense expression of shock on his face because she was then quick to backtrack. "I mean, you don't have to or anything. No pressure—"

"No, it's real nice of ya to offer—"

"You can say no, it's completely fine—"

"I don't want ya to think I aint grateful for—"

They stumbled over each other's words and then chuckled at how ridiculous they sounded.

Michonne put a calming hand on his arm. "I just thought it'd be nice to see a part of where you're from. I've never been to that town and it'd be useful to have a tour guide."

Daryl grinned. "It still Georgia. It aint the mountains 'a Tibet. And aint nobody gon' mess with y'all. I'll see to that."

When she beamed at him, it damn near sent him in a frenzy. He couldn't believe what a sap he was being tonight. Yet he was having a good time with her even given all the ugliness with Andrea and Phillip.

"Thanks. And my girls won't be a bother. They're very active but they're well behaved. I see to that despite their trifling father."

"Mama Bear don't play around, I see." She laughed again and it elicited a sense of pride that he could bring that out of her. "I aint got a doubt 'bout your gals being a couple 'a peaches."

She sighed and slumped heavily into the couch. "I feel like I need to apologize for before. I didn't mean to get all up on you like that. The whole situation with …" she waved her arms not wanting to finish the description. "That whole situation got to me."

"Aint no thing. Glad I was here." It warmed him that an amazing woman like her had relied on him when she was down. He hoped she'd do it again, not that he wished anything bad on her.

She swung her head over to meet his gaze. "I'm glad you were here too." Her gentle smile turned sly."

"What? I don't think I like that look from ya."

Again that made her laugh and Daryl figured he was on a roll. "I was thinking that you might just be my favorite client."

Daryl shook his head. "Yeah, for all 'a forty-five minutes. That hardly qualifies." Secretly, he didn't like the idea of her only thinking of him as a client, a past responsibility that she'd fulfilled.

"Hey, that was an important forty-five minutes!" He couldn't argue with that reasoning. "Seriously though, I appreciate your support tonight, Daryl. For keeping me entertained and saving me from the weirdo in the fedora and for making me feel better after dealing with jerks."

Hoping that the dark room hid his blush, Daryl ducked his head and reached for another cookie. Returning his attention to her, he caught her still gazing at him, amused over his embarrassment.

"My pleasure." He picked up his beer and held it out to her. She joined him with her glass of scotch and they toasted their newly-articulated and official friendship.

TBC …


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Sunday turned out to be a crisp but bright day. The girls were practically bouncing off the seats they were so excited about Christmas tree shopping. Her ex said that it was all they'd talked about over the weekend, which she suspected had gotten on his nerves. Michonne tried not to be too self-satisfied about that.

In fact, His Highness—the nickname she used for her ex because he was the king of excuses and a royal pain in her ass—seemed relieved to turn the girls back over to her care. That wasn't typical since he definitely hoarded as much time with their daughters as possible. It was almost a competition for him, the attempts to squeeze more time out of her. So it was odd to find the girls packed and ready to go as soon as she pulled up.

If she were to guess, his weariness could also be due to getting their daughters acquainted with his girlfriend—and not having the smoothest of times at it. She'd met the young lady, of course, that being a stipulation of letting her anywhere near her kids for an extended period of time. While Stacy seemed nice enough and willing to give the whole step-mom routine a try, she struck Michonne as pretty vapid, if ultimately harmless. After all, she was only twenty-three. The woman was going to have a difficult time keeping up with her two mini-hurricanes. They were bright, energetic children who loved to run and play and ask questions. Stacy, with her age-appropriate narcissism and immaculate appearance, probably wasn't the type to get down in the dirt as they dug out their sandbox or dive into their various art projects and make-believe games. The girls were pretty good natured so hopefully the weekend hadn't been a disaster, as funny as that idea was to her.

She hadn't asked His Highness and he hadn't volunteered anything either.

For her part of the day, the girls were nothing but bubbly little angels since she'd picked them up. The three year old was strapped in and singing a chopped up version of Frosty the Snowman and the five year old was playing along and adding her own funny words to make her sister laugh. Running around a farm with her two little bundles of sunshine was exactly what she needed to get over her anxieties, even if she remained a little tired from the late evening out.

She was still upset about what had happened at the shelter fundraiser the night before. The passage of time had done nothing to quiet her anger at Andrea and her disgusting boyfriend. The hurt and disappointment grew as no indication of an apology seemed forthcoming. She'd spent all morning pissed off and stewing and thinking of the things she'd say to Andrea if and when she contacted her. By the time she was due to pick up the girls, she'd thoroughly spun her wheels on the matter.

The event hadn't been a total waste though. They'd made a ton of money according to Sasha and Carol. Even Shane had been kind of fun to hang out with despite usually working her nerves with his alpha cop personality. She'd gotten to know Rick a lot better too, both of them opening up after a couple of drinks. She was really taking a shine to the sheriff as they'd fallen into an easy banter over the evening. Maybe it'd be a good idea to invite him and his wife over for dinner sometime, make an effort to socialize with him more.

And then there'd been Daryl's company

She was really embarrassed about how she'd unloaded on him after the incident with Phillip and Andrea. He'd been as sweet as ever though and spent the rest of the night cheering her up and taking care of her. He'd made sure she was sober enough to drive home and even walked her to her car before heading back inside to give Carol a hand. The guy was the real deal.

It'd be disingenuous to ignore how good he'd looked to her in his semi-formal attire or how nice it felt in his embrace, his eyes and attention only on her. Maybe it was the scotch talking but it had taken some restraint not to flirt openly with him or make a forward move. Sometimes he'd seemed fine with their playfulness but then other times he would descend into a pile of nerves at the drop of a hat—he broke out in a blush or shuffled away in discomfort at least once every time they interacted. Not that the reaction deterred her, especially when he continued to be so friendly. The shyness and uncertainty only made him seem more charming and thus more appealing for his sincerity.

Daryl didn't strike her as the kind of guy well-versed in that type of romantic subtlety though.

She usually kept strict boundaries around her relationship with former clients. And she was also wary of bringing her girls around new people. But Daryl had her making excuses for their friendship: he'd only really been her client for less than an hour; she'd gotten to know him mainly through working at the shelter and they'd been interacting on a social level for months now without it being strange. Nothing about Daryl set off any alarms and Michonne prided herself on being a good judge of character with excellent instincts. She felt comfortable with her assessment of Daryl, especially after the previous night.

It had been a last minute decision to invite him on the Christmas tree hunt. Really, she'd only meant to ask him a few questions about the area, whether he was familiar with the place they were visiting and how long a drive it was. As she considered how he teased her over cookies and pointed out silly, drunken party goers to make her laugh, she began to imagine how interesting it would be to see him in his comfort zone. She wondered if he'd still be this endearingly gentle but guarded man she'd come to know or if he was this whole other person when around people more like himself.

Turning into the Christmas tree farm, she figured she'd find out soon enough; it was too late to back out now. She spotted him right away, leaning against his truck and holding a hot beverage in his hand. Already he looked like a man in his element.

Michonne pulled her SUV in next to him and rolled down the window, smiling at how he immediately straightened and started shuffling and fidgeting like those first encounters between them. Definitely charming.

"Hey," she called out.

"Hey." He gave her a small wave.

"Let me wrangle these two balls of energy and we'll be with you in a minute."

Catching his nod, she rolled the window back up to begin the ritual of preparing the girls for an outdoor adventure. Gloves? Check. Hats? Check. Coats buttoned and scarves tied? Check and check. Exiting the car, she opened the back door and unhooked the youngest while the oldest did her best to scramble across the seats and jump out into the open parking lot.

"Hold on, baby. Let me get your sister out and then you can climb down."

She bounced on the seat, the little ball at the end of her hat bobbing along with her. "Hurry up, we gotta get our tree before somebody takes it."

Michonne laughed. "There are lots of trees here so nobody is going to take all the good ones."

"But what if they do?" she whined. "Like what if they take the bestest one?"

"Well, then that means it wasn't the best one because the best one is what _we_ pick out." She placed the little one on the ground and took her hand while she helped the elder step down out of the high passenger side seat.

When she turned with the girls, Daryl had the door to his truck open and was reaching across the seat to fiddle with something. She walked over to him and he popped back out holding two small cups.

"Girls, this is my friend I told you about. His name is Mr. Dixon. Can you say hi?" The older girl immediately clutched her leg, always the shy one. The youngest smiled and waved her gloved hand. "Daryl, this little chipper gal here is Ursula and the shy gal here," she sad wiggling her leg to jostle her other daughter, "this is Octavia."

Octavia flashed Daryl a little smile and squeaked out a hello.

"Hey ladies," Daryl said, nodding at Ursula and trying to catch Octavia's bashful gaze before shifting his eyes elsewhere.

His movements were a bit stiff but maybe he was just cold. And she couldn't tell if the redness in his cheeks was due to the icy breezy or the flush of nerves at interacting with them. After she'd invited him, she didn't think to follow up with whether he even liked kids, yet he'd agreed to come without reservation.

"I picked y'all up some apple cider from down the road. Best stuff in the county. I made sure it cooled down but it's still plenty warm for drinkin'." He shifted his uncertain gaze back up to her and didn't offer the cups until he got the mom approval. "I hope that's alright." The girls both looked up at her too but with wide, hopeful eyes and she nodded at the man across from her.

"Thank you," Octavia said when he bent down to hand her the cup. Ursula was a little bolder in reaching up and waving her hands to get her treat.

Her antics brought a modest grin to his lips. "Look at you, Lil Bit." He handed the cup to the girl, careful to make sure she had it balanced in her mittened fingers before letting go. "And the only Mr. Dixon I know is my dad. Just Daryl is good."

Michonne nudged her youngest. "Thank you, Mr. Daryl," Ursula muttered before taking a big gulp from her cider. When she was done, Michonne took the cup from her so she wouldn't spill it.

"I got one for you too," Daryl said reaching in for another larger cup and his own half full container as well.

She took her cup from Daryl and sipped at the warm liquid, closing her eyes as the sweet, cinnamon-y goodness played across her taste buds. It was fresh and delicious, the kind of cider you could only get in the country. "This is great, Daryl. Thank you."

He smiled and stepped away to slam his door shut. "I aint been around a lot 'a kids so I figure I best get on their good side first thing," he called over his shoulder.

Octavia smacked her lips. "It's so good, Mama. Apple-y!" Ursula nodded and reached for her cup. After she took another sip and handed it back, they walked towards the massive field of trees.

Daryl fell in step with them. "Ready to get y'all a tree?" he asked the two girls. Octavia nodded, still a little bashful despite his present. Michonne coaxed Ursula ahead of her as she skipped in excitement, telling everyone they passed that she was getting a Christmas tree.

"Believe me, they've been ready for days." They entered the farm grounds and Ursula stopped again to take a drink of her cider. Octavia had run a bit ahead, already mesmerized by the enormous tree in front of her.

Chuckling, Michonne stepped up behind her and scooted her forward. "Baby, I don't think that's going to fit through the front door much less in the living room of our house. Why don't we try and find something a little smaller?" Ursula poked at the tree a little and giggled when the needles tickled her through her mitten.

They strolled a little farther and both girls seemed to be in awe of every other tree they passed. Michonne wondered how they were going to narrow it down if the girls were enchanted by half the trees in the field. As they kept walking, though, the girls got used to the patches of giant green playthings and were jumping up and down and fussing over which one was better than another. Having long since downed their cider, they began to run from row to row, excited squeals alerting the adults to their whereabouts. They would slow down and stay close if they encountered other people but in the vast space so full of majestic structures, Michonne let them have a little fun frolicking in nature.

As they wandered, she and Daryl chatted about the area and how he knew the owners. Every once in a while, Ursula would call him over to look at a particular tree. He'd listen to her childish prattle with an attentive ear and respond with the requisite enthusiasm—he was a natural. And Ursula had taken a bit of a shine to Daryl, ever the flirt that little one. When he picked her up so she could touch the top of one of the trees, Michonne thought Ursula would explode in happiness. Octavia giggled and demanded a top-side view as well and Daryl complied much to her delight. Then the two took Michonne's hand and swung their arms together as they continued to point to their favorites.

Eventually, they made their way to the middle of the farm. The girls were crawling under and in between some trees pretending they were getting a good look but were probably resting their tired feet and too proud to admit it.

Daryl, stuffed his hands in his jeans and kicked at the dry grass. "You feelin' alright after last night?"

She smiled at his concern. "Yeah. It's a miracle I don't have more of a hangover with all that scotch I drank."

"I'll say. You were throwin' 'em back. Thought I was gon' have to cut you off."

Michonne shoved him with her shoulder but laughed at his exaggeration. "I wasn't that bad. When I throw back a few too many, you'll know it." Daryl seemed intrigued by the notion which excited her a bit. "About the 'other thing' though, I'm fine. Pissed but fine."

"I'd be pissed too. I _am_ pissed. I aint gon' do nothin' to him or anything but that bastard needs to be taught a lesson." He took a panicked step back and flicked his hand to his mouth. "Sorry 'bout that. I aint used to watchin' my mouth."

"And on a Sunday too. Shame on you Daryl Dixon," she tsked. Chuckling, she waved him off. "I don't think they heard. They're too busy dragging their feet about this tree situation." She kneeled down to where the two girls were now gathering pine needles and laughing at the ones that stuck to their gloves. "Excuse me ladies. What happened to getting the 'bestest' tree before anyone else?"

The girls crawled from their spot and pulled themselves up on Michonne's clothes getting pine needles all over her pants and coat. "We want this one, Mama," Octavia said pointing to the tree they'd been playing under.

"You too?" she asked the little one and was greeted with an enthusiastic nod.

Turning to her companion, she grabbed his arm and pushed him to get a closer look. "What do you think Mr. Daryl? Should this be our Christmas tree?"

He made a show of moving around the tree and inspecting it from all angles, giving them a lot of "hmms" and scratching his chin. Ursula and Octavia were bouncing about, practically jumping up and down, but they liked that Daryl was drawing out the fun.

"I aint got much experience with Christmas trees but I think this is the best one in this whole dang place. Right, girls?"

"Yes!" they both shouted in unison.

"Y'all done good. What you think, Mama," he joked.

Michonne rolled her eyes. "Weeeeell …" She let the suspense build once more and almost giggled at seeing her children's little eyes go completely round for waiting. "I think it might do." The smiles on the girls faces couldn't possibly have gotten any wider.

Daryl touched her lightly on her arm. "Lemme go find Jimmy and I'll have him cut it for ya and haul it out to the front." She smiled in thanks as the girls ran around their chosen tree and made up a song about their new Christmas toy.

About ten minutes later, Daryl returned on a little tractor like vehicle, chatting with a heavyset man in overalls and a baseball cap. For someone who wasn't supposed to like Daryl, they certainly seemed to be getting on just fine. Daryl made the introductions with his usual awkwardness and then they got down to business with regards to price and transport.

"I can wrap the tree up and tie it to the top of your car. It should hold real good but you'll have to give it a day to reshape. If you wanna pay a little extra, my boy can drive it out to your house for ya but he already left with today's deliveries so you'd have to wait for tomorrow anyway."

Daryl snickered next to the man, his drawl more pronounced for being around his childhood acquaintance. "How old's that boy 'a yours now?"

"That 'boy' just turned twenty-two a few weeks ago. Damn near knocked me off my seat thinkin' on when he was just a pup. Susie was all boo-hooing 'bout it but, hey, that's life. We still got the younger girls at home, one's gon' start high school next year and the other'll be graduatin' in the spring. The oldest girl is overseas doin' her stint in the Army."

"Dang, you and Susie been busy. Were pretty busy in high school too if memory serves."

"You don't wanna go there, Dixon. You wouldn't want me spillin' _your_ secrets in front of your lady friend here." There was a wicked glint in his eye so Michonne was half tempted to goad him into revealing a few details about her friend. Judging by Daryl's sudden discomfort, he wasn't so thrilled. More like terrified.

"As curious as I am about that, I'll let Daryl fill me in on his own time." Daryl seemed relieved but the lightness of the conversation had been lost. She sighed, watching her girls poke and coo over the tree. "We might as well just wrap it up and pack it on the roof of my car. I don't want to make more work for your son and if they have to wait a day, they'll just have to wait a day."

Octavia perked up at hearing the adult conversation. "Mama, why do we have to wait? We want to decorate it today." The whine had crept into her voice again and Michonne was not looking forward to dealing with them when they got home.

"I know, baby, but the tree's gotta rest once we cut it down and get it home. It's a lot of change for the tree and we want it to be nice and pretty for all the decorations we have." Octavia didn't look convinced and Ursula had stuck her lip out too, probably not understanding the conversation but sensing that it involved something she didn't like.

Daryl bit his lip, clearly rattled by the display of unhappiness from the girls. Michonne was used to it but she imagined it would cut a little deeper for the uninitiated.

"I aint tryin' to be all up in your business but I could take it in my truck. I understand if that don't sit right with ya but I thought I'd offer if it's any help to ya."

Michonne grew silent thinking about the suggestion. How did she feel about letting Daryl that much closer into her private life? It wasn't just an issue of him knowing where she lived but he was also doing her a favor and making an impression on her girls as well.

At the same time, what did she expect from inviting him on this trip? She'd already put herself out there.

Taking in her hesitation, Daryl tried backtracking even further. "Forget I said anything. It's a dumb idea."

She sensed nothing but sincerity from him and an eagerness to be useful. Again, she reminded herself that he wasn't a former client, he was a friend now. He worked side by side with her, they socialized with the same people and the night before he'd let her lean on him for comfort at a low point.

"No, Daryl, it's a very considerate offer. I just don't want you to feel obligated. I didn't invite you to put you to work. And I live at least forty-five minutes from here. That's a lot of driving."

He scoffed. "What else I'm gon' do today? 'Sides, I'd feel terrible thinkin' about those gals weeping in their pillows 'cause they can't pretty up their tree." The two girls in question were darting their heads back and forth trying to decipher what all the grown up talk meant for their wishes. Similarly, Jimmy was standing by looking incredibly amused.

"Okay, who's the sucker now? Trust me, they'll get over it. But if you're really okay with it, I'd love the help." She grabbed his arm in warning. "Be careful though. You'll be doing something you aint gettin' paid for." They both smiled, given that it was a mutual bad habit at this point.

"Oh I'm 'a get mine, you wait and see." From anyone else, that would have sounded completely off putting yet from Daryl it served as a promise she somehow anticipated. "How else you gon' carry that thing in the house anyway?"

Ignoring her glare, he laughed and backed up to head towards the tractor he'd ridden in on. Jimmy followed and they both grabbed the equipment needed to chop the tree down. Michonne gathered up Octavia and Ursula and stood a safe distance from where the men set up to work.

An hour and a half later, there was a full, lush Christmas tree in Michonne's living room waiting to be decorated. The girls were beside themselves.

"We're gonna put balls and lights and 'nono mints' all over," Ursula babbled to Daryl who stood in front of the tree adjusting the position of it a bit.

"That's 'ornaments' Urs-silly," Octavia corrected.

The younger girl pouted. "I say that! And don't call names, Mama said."

Michonne cut the two sisters a stern look. "Don't start that bickering or you'll go straight to your room and me and Daryl will decorate this all by ourselves."

"Noooooo," they cried at the same time. Daryl shook his head and laughed as he stepped back, satisfied with how he'd placed the tree.

"Mr. Daryl you gonna help?" Ursula was officially smitten with the man. She'd wanted to ride with him back home so she could watch the tree and talk his ear off. Even if Daryl were better acquainted with her kids, she wouldn't wish that kind of attack on him.

Michonne's expression was apologetic. "You've done enough for us today, Daryl. You are officially sprung. Girls, Daryl can't spend all day with us."

He waved his arms in a casual, nonchalant gesture. "I don't mind. I aint never had a Christmas tree. It'd be nice to see one all up close and lit up."

"Never ever?" Octavia asked with wonder.

Daryl kneeled down to look her in the eye with as much seriousness as he could muster. "Never ever ever."

From what she knew about Daryl, it wasn't surprising. She didn't want it to seem like she was taking advantage though. "Really, Daryl, you don't have to."

"Naw, I want to. If it's okay with you," he added, a hesitance to his words.

Before she could answer, the girls were already leading him to the dining room table to show him the lights and decorations they'd laid out earlier in the week. Daryl peeked at her over his shoulder and she grinned, indicating that he had his answer.

It felt right to include him.

Following behind, she made a detour into the kitchen. "Dinner first, girls. Then it'll be hot chocolate for four." The sound of her girls' cheers, joined by Daryl's exuberant assent trailed her retreat.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: Thanks so much for the reviews and alerts and PMs and continued reads. It's been really wonderful to get the encouragement and input. On a story note, the girls are named for two of my favorite authors as a small creative perk. And I'm mystified how apples keep creeping into my stories about these two. **_

_**More soon! **_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Daryl pulled into Michonne's driveway, parking in the open spot and cutting the engine. Instead of getting out, he sat behind the wheel and glanced at his watch. He leaned over to check her windows for any sign of movement and seeing none, he took a deep breath and wiped his clammy hands along his pants.

He was stalling and he knew it.

He had a good idea of why he'd agreed to come today, although it really only boiled down to the simple fact that Michonne had asked it of him. Sure, there was more to it than that, an opportunity to do what he assumed normal people did in their spare time rather than drinking, cussing and complaining. And every time she'd invited him over to her house, he got to spend more time getting to know her better too. He needed to stop fooling himself and admit that this was the main reason he'd agreed so readily to her invitation.

So on a Sunday afternoon, he found himself on Michonne's doorstep about to take part in 'her famous Super Bowl party' as she referred to it.

Since a couple of months ago when he'd helped her and her girls pick out a Christmas tree, they'd continued their friendship as usual. But he'd only seen Michonne at the shelter again one time—she'd driven out to drop something off to Carol from Sasha. It was out of the way for her so he wasn't sure why she'd volunteered and didn't want to be too presumptuous thinking maybe she'd wanted to run into him. That had been on a Saturday so she'd joined him and Carol for an early dinner and drinks with Rick dropping in for a little while to say hello.

The best times were when he'd been back to her house after offering to fix a couple of things she'd casually mentioned were on their last leg. He'd even whipped them up a small storage shed in the backyard that took him a whole weekend to get right. It probably could have been done in a day but the girls had been so excited about "helping" that he'd indulged them. As far as he saw, no one had any complaints about it. On those days, they'd eaten dinner together as a group and it felt like the most normal thing in the world.

He'd thought about that weekend a lot. Spending time with them brought him a dangerous amount of pleasure, both because of how he reacted to Michonne but also because of how much he liked spending time with her daughters. His connection with the two of them seemed as natural as breathing; he didn't need to work at it to have a good time with them. Ursula was the most enthusiastic about his visits, practically jumping on him whenever he appeared. The older girl, Octavia, was quieter and content to attach herself to Michonne. He made it a point to always include her and she really liked when he'd stop to explain something to her or answer her questions as he worked.

And being someone who Michonne relied on stirred something incredibly satisfying within him. He'd stopped worrying about acting a fool around her and tried to just be himself. It was going well for the most part.

So when she'd asked him if he wanted to come by her party, he didn't really want to say no even though the thought of such a large social event made him anxious. When they'd hung out before, it was only her and the girls or they were with people he felt comfortable with; now there'd be plenty of people there who he was afraid would judge him, or worse, dismiss him in a way that stoked his temper. The last thing he'd ever want to do was embarrass Michonne around her friends.

Taking another deep breath, Daryl decided that he had to get out of the car sometime. Grabbing the gift he made for her, he hopped out of the truck and wandered down the front path. Michonne forbade him to bring anything, insisting that she had taken care of all the food, drinks and supplies. He didn't feel right showing up empty handed though. So he'd asked his neighbor if he could gather some of the herbs from her small garden and he put them in two little glass containers he'd crafted up from some fancy beer bottles he'd collected—he'd learned how to make the mini-vases from this guy he did construction with a few years ago. It was slim pickens in the winter with no flowers about just yet but he'd gotten a good snip of thyme, rosemary and winter savory.

He arrived exactly on time but it didn't look like a lot of people had shown up yet. It was still a couple of hours before kickoff so perhaps folks would come out closer to then. Ringing her doorbell, he felt his heart racing at what awaited him across the threshold.

After a half a minute, Michonne appeared at the door, apron-clad and out of breath yet looking as lovely as he'd ever seen her. When she spotted what he had in his hand, she smirked at him and shook her head.

"Of course, you'd find a way around my party rules." Daryl grinned and handed her the containers, watching her eyes light up at the unexpected gift. "It's very you." She breathed in the scent of the herbs.

"Do I even wanna ask what that's supposed to mean?"

He followed her into the house and noticed that the front living room was empty although the television was on. Michonne led him into the kitchen and placed the vases on the windowsill above the sink. It looked nice there he thought. And she looked real nice from behind placing it there, leaning over to reach the set-back mantle above the sink.

"No, you probably don't wanna know." She turned back around and poked him in the shoulder, letting him know she was joking. He liked her candidness, her willingness to reveal her intentions around him. It was another reason why her company relaxed him.

"Everyone's out back. I can introduce you around but Rick and his family are already here and Shane too."

It was a relief that he wouldn't be going into a group of complete strangers. Rick and Shane he could handle.

The reason that Michonne's house was so great for parties was her amazing extension built onto the kitchen. It had enormous sliding doors leading outside, a bar, an entertainment system and plenty of comfortable seating. The design had been part of her ex-husband's man cave dreams she'd said; it was the only thing he'd regretted about her getting the house in the divorce.

Already on the couch partaking of the generous food spread were his colleagues from the shelter and about five people he hadn't met—three were people Michonne knew through work and two were her next door neighbors. Michonne introduced him around and then left to go tend to matters in the kitchen, or so he thought. She returned a minute later with his favorite beer and disappeared again. He couldn't find fault with that particular hosting skill.

Over the next hour, a flow of people showed up and the groups did a bit more intermingling. Daryl had been really quiet at first just chatting with Rick, Shane and Lori. Rick's son Carl had been playing videogames upstairs but Michonne put him to work. Now the boy was happily helping her prep and plate like a good little sous chef while they chatted about comic books. And it turned out that one of Michonne's former co-workers, Maggie Greene, grew up not far from Rick and Shane; they knew of her dad who was a prominent vet in their community. Maggie's boyfriend, Glenn, seemed like a nice guy too. They struck up an easy rapport after Glenn impressed everyone with his knowledge of firearms and attack strategies. When Daryl asked how he knew all that stuff, he revealed that he was actually a pizza delivery guy who played a lot of video games. Everyone had a laugh giving the kid a good-natured ribbing over that.

The party really started when Sasha and her boisterous brother Tyreese showed up. He had a way of getting everyone in a festive mood, smack talking about the game and making predictions on how it was going to go down. Carol arrived soon after and he got to chat with her too in between her attempts at trying to help Michonne with the food and drinks.

Through all of this, another dozen or so people crowded the living room entertainment area, kids included. Hot dogs and mini-barbecue sandwiches, nachos, dips and veggies platters all made their way to the various tables; there was always someone who offered to refill drinks alongside their own.

Daryl had expected to be surrounded by people completely out of his league, but so far, it was a fun mix of folks and he was having a good time. He'd met a guy, Mike, who was a court officer where Michonne worked and he seemed really cool. And when he and Tyreese got to talking about how Daryl knew Sasha and Carol, he offered to hook him up with his friends Dale and T-Dog. They ran a non-profit and were always looking for hard workers to fill out their in-house construction and maintenance team.

Yet as nice as it felt to be included, Daryl had to admit that it'd be better if he could hang out with Michonne a bit more. He understood that she was busy though and wouldn't think of trying to hog her time. He was satisfied with catching her eye as she'd pass through, assuring her that he was okay; he could tell that she fretted over him and it warmed him even more.

Right before kickoff, there was a bit of commotion coming from inside the house and, through the doorway, he saw a tall, good looking man making his way to the back area, a dolled up, young woman in tow. When he stepped into the room, several people hopped up to greet him and shake his hand. Since he didn't know the man, Daryl kept his attention turned towards the funny story Tyreese was telling about his old college football days. After making the rounds, the man walked over and introduced himself to the group he sat with and his identity finally clicked: he was Michonne's ex husband who she usually referred to as His Highness but whose actual name was James. The woman attached to his side must be his fiancée Stacy. Noting her heels, tight clothes and makeup, he pegged her as exactly the kind of woman Michonne described to him; he figured he'd give her the benefit of the doubt though since he didn't particularly like being judged on appearances himself.

Michonne hadn't mentioned that he'd be here. He wondered how she felt about it and made a note to ask later. If she let him come in and socialize, it couldn't be he was crashing or anything.

James turned to Daryl and held out his hand. "Hey man, I'm James. I don't think we've met."

Daryl stood and grasped the man's offered hand making sure to give him a firm handshake. He didn't know why it was so important to stand up to the guy but that was aggressive male behavior for you.

"Daryl Dixon. Nice to meet ya."

As the name registered with James, his eyes widened in shock before they narrowed and scrutinized him. "Oh, so _you're_ the Daryl I've been hearing about."

Daryl did not appreciate his tone. But before he could ponder what to make of it, he heard happy shouts coming from the doorway and two little Mac trucks plow into him. Their mom followed close behind trying to pry the girls off of him. A benefit of Michonne's ex showing up was that, apparently, he'd brought Octavia and Ursula to the party.

"Mr. Daryl!" they squealed as one held onto his leg while the other crawled under his arm to hug him.

"Hey girls. Where y'all been? I been waitin' on ya for hours," he said dramatically which made them giggle.

Ursula let herself be removed from his leg and settled for being held by her mom. Octavia let go after a stern look from her mother but opted to stay close. "We were with Daddy," Octavia said. "We got here quick even if you beat us."

Ursula bounced in Michonne's arms. "I made a flower picture, Mr. Daryl."

"I hope it's a purple flower 'cause that's my favorite, Lil Bit."

She shook her head. "It's lellow. I make you a purpur one."

"I thank ya. You gon' have to show me later." At this point, several people were staring at the exchange, obviously surprised at how excited Michonne's girls were to see this man that most of them had only just met.

"Yes, later," Michonne emphasized, a slight grin stretching her lips. Reaching for Octavia, she turned to head inside. "For now, you get to go upstairs in your playroom. There are some new friends for you to meet and they'd love for you to show them your games and art supplies." Both girls waved goodbye as they let their mom lead them from the room.

Most everyone had the good sense to go back to what they were doing and Daryl sat back down now that the girls had gone. However, James lingered, taking a seat near him, his fiancée peeking around his shoulder in curiosity.

"I have to say, I've heard a lot about you from the girls. Something about Christmas trees and building sheds? It's surprising that we're just now meeting."

Daryl shrugged feeling himself get a bit hot and uncomfortable at the attention. "Well, I aint around much but when you're that little ya tend to remember Christmas trees and sheds I guess." He glanced at the TV wishing the game would start so there'd be a distraction from this awkward conversation.

"I guess," James said, looking more suspicious than convinced. Daryl was starting to get pissed. If Michonne hadn't explained more about who he was, she had her reasons and he wasn't going to contradict it.

An exuberant laugh drew their attention to the door and a familiar figure stepped through. Eli Miller. His former lawyer spotted James first and sprinted over to give the man a hearty hug and pat on the shoulder. "It's good to see you man. It's been a long time."

"It's been a minute," James agreed. "How've you been?"

"Same old story, same old clients." Eli said.

Daryl wasn't sure if he should draw attention to himself or if it was better to keep his distance. A panic built in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want his record coming up and then have people thinking he was a fraud and common low-life crashing their respectable party. That James was right there and in his face made him even more nervous. What if hearing about his case, caused a scene or made him demand that Michonne keep him away from the girls? There wouldn't be nothing he could say on that to make the situation sound better. He'd done what he'd done. He may have paid his debt but that didn't erase the mistake.

It was after James introduced Stacy that Eli noticed Daryl sitting nearby listening to Glenn quietly rib him for the drama he'd created in the last few minutes.

"If it isn't Daryl Dixon!" Eli's greeting held no surprise as with James, but it wasn't any less enthusiastic. "How the hell are you?" He climbed over the rest of the crowd and shook his hand with glee.

"I'm good," Daryl answered, reservation in his voice. He decided he could be friendly enough though. The man had done right by him and didn't deserve any disrespect.

Unfortunately, James wasted no time in sneaking up on the two. "So, Eli, you know, Daryl? I'm only just meeting him even though my daughters can't stop raving about him and how much fun he is."

There was a bit of satisfaction for Daryl at hearing the tinge of jealousy to his words.

Eli turned back to James and flashed his best charming smile. "Well, Christmas trees will do that to a little girl." Daryl tensed up, wondering how Eli was going to respond to James's implied question. "No, I know Daryl through work. "He and Michonne volunteer with the same organization and I handle their contracting work for my pro bono hours." He whirled around and winked at Daryl. It wasn't the entire truth but close enough.

So Michonne must have talked to the man about Daryl when she invited him. Damn that woman thought of everything. Relief consumed him.

"It's also how I know Saaaaashaaaaa," he called out getting the young woman's attention and moving over to hug her, lifting her off the ground. When they came up for air, he clasped hands with Tyreese and gave him a half hug.

James looked like he wanted to ask more questions but at that moment the pre-game wrapped up its coverage and the room buzzed as everyone got ready for the main event. In the commotion of everyone getting settled, Daryl took the opportunity to go grab another beer. As he was strolling into the house, Michonne was coming out with a plate full of sliders and a platter of buffalo wings.

"Hey, is everything okay?" He tried not to read into how much she worried about him tonight. Maybe everybody was getting that kind of attention but he still felt special for it.

He grabbed a slider and grinned at her disapproval, frustrated that she couldn't reprimand him. "I'm good. How you doin'?"

"Chuggin' right along. It's almost time for the game to start so get yourself a spot."

"Will do, ma'am. Right after I get me a new beer." She nudged him with her elbow and proceeded into the room to drop off her stash.

Daryl wandered back out after the pre-kickoff chatter and national anthem and settled back into the crowd, as far from James as he could get. Throughout the first half of the game, he focused on enjoying the company around him and teasing Michonne when she'd settle in for a while in between serving and refilling drinks.

During the second quarter, he poked her in the knee as she sat at the edge of the couch behind Glenn and Maggie.

"Not a bad party."

"Thanks," she said, smug grin hidden behind the lip of her beer.

"You gon' take it easy after halftime. Ya been on your feet all day."

Michonne shrugged. "I knew what I was getting into. I'll take it easy next weekend."

Daryl's expression was skeptical. "Not if you got those two little spitfires upstairs runnin' the show." Michonne hummed her agreement.

"It's fine. I can see both televisions from the kitchen. And those sliders aren't going to make themselves."

Speaking of the sliders, Daryl reached onto the table and grabbed one of the remaining snacks. "These are my favorite, I think."

"They do go quick." She checked her watch and hopped off the couch. "Another batch coming up." She offered up her bottle and he tapped the neck of it with his own beer.

She moved around the seating area to rearrange the food and grab the empty trays before heading back to the kitchen. Daryl's gaze followed, catching her ex, James, trailing her with his eyes as well. About ten minutes later, while his girlfriend was engrossed in something involving her phone, he went inside and slowed when he reached the kitchen, no doubt seeking out Michonne. Daryl scowled and turned his attention back to the game.

He couldn't stop himself from worrying about her but it wasn't his business what was going on with them.

TBC …


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Michonne pulled from the oven another tray of mini-hamburgers for the sliders and set them aside to rest. With some buffalo wings still cooking through, a few hot dogs on the indoor grill and several bowls of chips, dips and pretzels ready for distribution, she was in pretty good shape for the mid-party rush. Excited at how nicely it was turning out, she took another sip of her beer and gathered more supplies from the refrigerator.

It was always dicey when you brought together your friends from such a wide variety of social circles. The people she knew from work and the people she volunteered with and her college friends and neighbors were a mix that could have easily ended in tensions. However, everyone seemed to be in good spirits. She'd even been pleasantly surprised that His Highness was behaving; he was as festive as the others although his fiancée seemed pretty bored hanging around all these "old" people. Michonne smirked about that then chastised herself for acting ugly towards the young lady.

Michonne had been throwing some form of a Super Bowl party since college and it turned into a thing of legend because of how much effort she put into people having a good time. It wasn't until she and James had moved into this current house that she'd started taking things to another level. A variety of homemade foods, an open bar and two entertainment centers made it an ideal place for the occasion. Although it was too cold to grill outside this year, she'd incorporated that a few times with great success.

In a colossal asshole move, James had threatened to steal the event from her after their divorce but it never happened. He probably realized that no one would go to his shitty party when they could be at her place having a better time.

Carl came through the kitchen asking if she needed anything. He'd been a great helper even after finding a playmate in Patrick, one of her neighbor's kids. Just like with Rick, she got on well with the young man. He'd been really excited to assist her and enjoyed being given what he thought of as adult responsibility. She wondered if the stress at home kept him from wanting to be around his parents too much since he seemed to be avoiding them. Or maybe he simply wanted some freedom like all kids tended to crave at his age. Lori had come through looking for the boy several times and she had to assure the woman that he was around the house somewhere being useful.

Michonne handed off the tray of hot dogs and warmed buns to the boy along with a bowl of chips and sent him on his way.

Before returning to her stove, she swept the living room area to see if anyone required anything but all were engrossed in the game. Checking the patio room, that crowd seemed to be satisfied too although she should probably get another bottle of wine ready since she'd refilled the beer cooler moments ago. Her eyes were drawn to Daryl and she watched him snacking on some chips while smack talking with Eli about football strategy. She let her gaze linger on his profile, probably for a few moments longer than was decent, until she caught herself and headed back inside.

She'd kept a keener than usual eye on Daryl, knowing that crowds and new people weren't exactly his thing. It pleasantly surprised her to see him having a good time and opening up to folks. If she wasn't so occupied with hosting duties, she would have spent more time with him. Getting to know him these last couple of months had been wonderful And today, they'd had a few moments here and there and, as usual, she enjoyed their easy banter and his genuine exuberance over the occasion.

"You busy," came a voice to her left. She inwardly groaned at James' presence in the kitchen. Whatever he wanted to say to her, she was likely not interested in hearing it. Why couldn't he watch the game and enjoy their mutual friends without bugging her?

Rolling her eyes, she checked on the chicken wings before pulling them out of the oven. "Not busy at all. Just keeping up the flow of fun in the middle of my very well attended annual party."

Ignoring her, he strolled over to where she was standing, mixing up her homemade buffalo wing sauce. "I know, I know. You throw a better Super Bowl party than I ever could."

"And don't you forget that, please. Ever. In fact, I may want you to acknowledge that in writing." He laughed nervously at her joke.

"Look, I'm gonna be straight up with you while we have a minute alone. What's up with you and this Daryl guy? He's not what I expected. When I kept hearing this dude's name, I thought he'd be some smooth Idris Elba type, kind of thuggish and rough around the edges but with a sensitive side.

"In other words, nothing like you?" And although he was too dense to recognize it, except for the Idris Elba part, he was pretty much spot on about Daryl.

"Very funny. I'm serious. This Daryl doesn't look like your type at all. I mean, elephant in the room here but what are you doing running around with this white, redneck-lookin' guy?"

A loud clang rang through the kitchen as Michonne dropped her mixing spoon into the bowl and slammed it on the counter. James took a step back upon seeing her scowl.

She was angry but she was also panicked, feeling insecure and exposed. She realized she needed to shut this conversation down quick and tight. It wasn't just that she didn't want to talk to him about her personal life but her feelings for Daryl were far from straightforward to her right now and he was the last person she wanted to dissect the situation with.

"I'm not discussing my friends with you, not here and not now." Even as they stood there, a couple of people had wandered through the room and the bathroom was just down the hall. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed the door was closed so someone was probably in there and maybe close enough to eavesdrop. "And even if I were dating Daryl, who the hell are you to talk about someone running around with a white guy."

She hadn't meant to be hurtful but she knew her words had stung. James' dad was white and had died when James was a baby; he'd been raised by his mom and stepfather, both black. Not intentionally, they often made him feel self-conscious about his background in their family with his half-siblings. James had always carried a complex about it even though Michonne had urged him to get some therapy or do some soul searching to find acceptance for the true person he is.

James was clearly irritated by her retort yet he also acknowledged that he'd hit a nerve, even if unaware of the full reason. "Michonne, I'm only saying that if the guy is going to be around my kids, then I want to know a little more about him than just the fact that you volunteer with him. Obviously, there's something going on if he's up in this house all the time."

"Cut the bullshit, James. Like you told me about every woman that you were friendly with? As you well know, those girls talk," she said, indicating the two little ones playing upstairs. "Before Stacy, I knew about Linda and Keisha and whoever the woman was that Octavia called 'The Candy Lady.' I don't even want to know what that was about. You may work my last nerve but I trust your judgment with our daughters and stayed out of your affairs until it became clear that I needed to be in the loop.

"Daryl is my friend and nothing else. You don't get a free pass into my business using the girls as an excuse. And I didn't invite you here to start trouble or boss me around or talk shit about my friends because of your personal issues. I invited you and Stacy to be nice."

They were silent for a few minutes, letting her diatribe sink in. Michonne tried to reign in her anger through each batch of buffalo wings she coated and set aside.

James knew better than to push his luck. She'd spoken on the matter and that's as far as he was going to get without causing a scene. He sighed and picked at one of the wings, prompting her to slap his hand away. "I know you were making an effort, baby. Stacy and I appreciate you including us." They both looked through the open doorway to see her still engrossed in something on her phone. He winced at the impression of that. "I still care about what happens with you and not only because of the girls. We were friends for a long time before we got together."

Michonne pursed her lips, still angry but not wanting to take his civility for granted.

"I remember. And stop calling me 'baby.' I'm your ex-wife not your late-night booty call."

He laughed at the jab. "Of course not. You're my BabyMama. He grabbed at another chicken wing, this time capturing it and taking a bite. "Thanks, baby."

"Ugh, get out of my kitchen." She pushed him towards the doorway giving him the platter of food to take back with him. She heard chuckling as his footsteps retreated out of the kitchen.

Michonne frowned into the baking tray where she arranged more patties for the sliders. Without really registering it, she gave the meat an extra hard press. She'd heard the footsteps approach her from down the hall and she'd instantly known who'd emerged from the bathroom in time to hear her fight with James, or at least part of it.

Glancing up at Daryl, she smiled weakly and went back to her task. He stood beside her, leaning against the counter as he sipped at his beer. He kept a tight hold on the bottle to keep from fidgeting.

"Did you hear any of that?" she asked.

He didn't bother to deny that he'd been listening. "Not all of it. Don't mean to eavesdrop. Or to cause problems with you two." Anger flared up again that James' flippant remarks would hurt this gentle man who had been nothing but generous to her and her girls. She cursed the difficulties in his life that had him so easily accepting James' irrational criticism as some kind of personal failing on his part.

Michonne scoffed, annoyed. "He's the one making a fuss, all because he doesn't know every detail of my life. If I were him, I'd spend more time worrying about that cheerleader he's about to marry and less time trying to boss me around. And it must really annoy him that the girls like you way more than they like her and we're not even dating."

"Yeah, his girl is cute but women like that are a handful. I'll pass on messin' with that kinda workout."

Michonne stopped her food preparation and took a moment to appreciate the man standing next to her, this new friend she'd made in the most unconventional of ways. She laughed at Daryl's less than diplomatic description. "Oh Daryl, never change." He ducked his head to hide his pleasure at hearing that.

"Anyway, you're my friend and my girls adore you. I don't care what anyone has to say about that." She slid the newly prepared sheet of food into the oven. "Seriously, Daryl, you're so good with them. I would have guessed that you worked with kids if I didn't know you better. Or that you had kids of your own."

She realized her mistake too late after the words left her mouth. There was a lot she still didn't know about Daryl and maybe this was an aspect of his life that he didn't want to share.

Daryl was quiet for a moment as he handed her some more hot dogs to put on the stovetop grill. Finally, he shrugged. "I had this girl when I was younger. One 'a the only times I was halfway serious 'bout anyone. She worked at a bar me and my brother used to always go to. Merle teased me somethin' fierce till I asked her out 'cause she was pretty bold 'bout wantin' to start somethin'. We got together a few times and then I found out she had a kid when she showed up on my doorstep after gettin' kicked outta her mom's place."

This was all news to Michonne and it was fascinating hearing of his past like this. He didn't talk too much about it. She got the feeling there wasn't much he enjoyed reflecting on. Knowing how jittery he got, she put him to work cutting up celery and carrots for the dip.

"They stayed with me for a while till she got back on her feet and I got kinda close to the kid, watched him grow up from a baby. They moved out but me and her stayed together off and on for a few years. We'd get to fussin' or she'd be pissed and wouldn't call for a while. But we always got back together 'cause even though she was a pain in the ass, I really liked her kid and thought I couldn't do no worse than her. But this girl was such a mess, always drinkin' and goin' on. Havin' all kinds 'a crazy people runnin' through her house. I tried to protect her kid from all that when I was around 'cause nobody had ever done that for me growin' up."

Michonne was mesmerized by his story, but she kept herself busy and her attention diverted so as not to spook him. Hearing this background had her curious and also dreading how it would end up.

"I take it things weren't happily ever after?"

Daryl scoffed. "Hardly. We broke up for good 'cause she started to get strung out on drugs and that just aint my thing. I worried 'bout her kid but she didn't care and would cuss me out, yellin' at me for tellin' her how to raise her child and all that. Turns out child protective services took that kid from her not three months after the last time I saw her." He tossed the vegetables in the bowl a bit harshly. "She had a good kid, smart and shit but he started to turn mean those last few times I saw him. He had to be to stay 'round the folks his Ma hung with. It didn't make no sense how she took that for granted. I don't understand how you can have somethin' like that and not want to protect it with everything you got."

Her heart broke for him, for the opportunities he never had and for the bruises he'd taken without losing his humanity. How could he be as wonderful and generous as he was after seeing so much of the worst in people? To his brother, his friends, to her and her girls, he was this dependable, solid guy when he had no right to have turned out that way.

"I don't understand it either, Daryl. But it's their loss." She thought about her girls and what she'd be willing to do to protect them. If anything happened to them, she couldn't ever be the same. There was no telling the shell of a person she'd become.

Without more needing to be said, they stood together in the kitchen for a while, watching the game in the living room while they prepared more food. When half time hit, he coaxed her to come have a seat and let Carol and Tyreese take care of dishing out provisions for a while.

The second half of the game was a little more lively with the kids growing bored upstairs and coming down to run around in the yard, Carl and Patrick included. Octavia and Ursula followed the older girls in the group around, diverting a few times to cuddle with one of their parents or mill around the adults for attention. When Ursula requested that Daryl come and play, he'd made her sit still with him while he finished watching his team drive the ball down the field. When the Saints got their touchdown in a bold but brilliant play, he tossed her in the air and reveled in her euphoric giggles and happy squeals. After that, he spent ten minutes chasing around all the kids in the yard until their parents called out for them to entertain themselves.

Following the final score, about half the party-goers, including Shane and Rick and his family headed home to get ready for the workday. Michonne was thankful that her ex took his leave with that crowd as well, his fiancée barely looking up from her phone on their way out, much less offering a thank you or a convincing farewell to the girls. Michonne simply let it go. Sasha, Tyreese, Carol and Daryl stuck around for a while as well as Eli and Mike who were deep in conversation about some work thing. Maggie and Glenn stayed on too but left when Glenn practically killed himself coming from the bathroom. He was going to have a hell of a hangover the next day.

While some of the other guests helped with the cleaning, Michonne put the girls to bed. They'd been upset to leave the party but had given everyone a dramatic hug to delay the inevitable. It was cute but exasperating. Her weariness must have shown because Daryl stepped up to coax them upstairs with the promise of a personal goodnight before she gave them a bedtime story. He'd also taken out the trash and moved back the furniture that had been shifted for the occasion. When he returned to the other stragglers, she promised him a very generous container of leftovers, a non-negotiable consolation prize for his troubles.

All that taken care of, she settled herself in the middle of the group to enjoy their company before the realities of their work week descended upon them.

She thought nothing of it when Mike caught her attention and asked her to walk with him through the house; she quickly complied thinking he was heading home but he guided her over to one of the couches in the empty room.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Michonne's heart sped up. She could _not_ handle any more emotional drama for the day. The irritation with James still lingered and she'd been struggling with her feelings for Daryl all night. Another factor in her ever-complicated romantic life was most unwelcome.

Some of that must have shown on her face because Mike laughed. "Don't look so scared. I'm not gonna bite."

Michonne sighed and tried to relax. Maybe he had something else on his mind than what she'd been thinking. However, instead of explaining himself, he simply sat there staring at her with an enigmatic grin on his face.

As he was building up to tell her whatever it was he just had to get out in the midst of her party, she caught movement in the back of the room and watched as Daryl walked through, coat-clad and leftovers in hand. When he saw the two of them sitting alone in the living room, he slowed, his expression hardening.

"Hey, I'm 'a get up outta here. Thanks for the invite," he said.

Michonne touched Mike's arm and then rose to walk Daryl to the door. Whatever he had to say could wait while she enjoyed Daryl's company for a little bit longer. When they walked out into the cold night, she closed the door behind them for some privacy. She'd had enough of people sneaking up on her today. Wrapping her sweater more tightly around herself, she waited for him to turn and face her on the porch.

"I hope you had a good time. I get worried about you out there in the sticks all by yourself, nothing but squirrels and possums for company."

"Don't you start," he chided. It was so easy for them to fall into a rhythm, even with the small shakeups to their interactions. She tried to hold his attention as they lingered at the entryway, feeling like Ursula and Octavia prolonging their evening before having to leave the party.

"Next time, you have to get your own beer though." After turning her words around a bit, she hoped he'd recognize the invitation in that. There were a lot of possibilities if that were to happen. "See you around, Daryl."

She thought about leaning over and offering a kiss on the cheek. Under the bright porch light, it was so easy to convince herself that he'd be receptive to it. She leaned against the doorframe, her lips showing a faint hint of a smile to match the kindness in his eyes. She pulled her hair back and hoped she hadn't imagined his eyes sweeping across her cheek and down the line of her neck. Shaking his head as if in some kind of a stupor, Daryl stuck his hands in his pockets and took a few awkward steps backward.

'What the hell,' Michonne thought.

He hadn't gone far when she straightened and closed the distance between them, planting a soft, lingering kiss to his stubbled cheek. His eyes went wide as she backed away and the heat flooded his face along with what had to be the goofiest grin he'd let slip without even knowing apparently. Forgoing any further conversation, he backed up along the path and strolled over to his truck parked in her driveway, briefly touching where her lips had been. When he slid in and started the engine, she remained on the porch, making sure he got out okay. He waved to her as he drove off and she returned the gesture.

Before walking back inside, she wondered when she'd be able to spend time with him again and secretly hoped she wouldn't have to wait too long.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: **__**Many thanks again for the reads and the feedback. I am delighted and humbled by the support.**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Daryl wandered around the van he'd just towed into the garage, checking the tires and lights for any damage although he knew the extent of the real problem already. It pissed him off that he had to take another vehicle in their fleet out of commission—this was the fourth one this month. At this rate, they'd have to cut some of the services on the schedule and he knew T-Dog wouldn't be happy about that.

There wasn't any use complaining about it so he popped the hood and started with the repair.

So far, he enjoyed his job working for Dale and T-Dog. He didn't much understand what they did except that they were another set of do-gooders, helping folks out in different communities. It amused Daryl that he was accumulating all these bleeding heart types lately after a life of dealing with drunks and petty criminals. There were some good folks in that category too whose only failing was falling on hard times; he still kept up with a few friends when he was out in his neighborhood. It was just a different crowd for sure.

When he first started working here, he had joined their construction crew and did a lot of projects at community centers and low-income housing complexes. Sometimes they'd work alongside contractors and sometimes it was just the small internal group that traveled the surrounding counties where the guys had contacts. Only in the last month had he moved to the auto body section since they were short staffed and needed the help. Daryl was handy with a car so he'd ended up staying for longer than planned. The guy, Jim, who ran things wasn't his favorite person in the world but he generally got stuff done and didn't bug Daryl too much. That's all he really wanted in a job. He also ran into T-Dog a lot more since he oversaw their transportation arm. There had been a bit of posturing between the two at first but it turned out they worked pretty well together. And Daryl thought the guy worked hard and cared about folks even if he came across as some random guy rather than a business owner.

Who knew that going to a crazy party would lead to this changeup with his unstable circumstances. Michonne's involvement in his life tended to do that he noticed.

He hadn't seen her in a few weeks for focusing on his new job. He didn't have the spare time or the excuse of convenience to simply hang out with her and her kids and what little spare time he did have he spent keeping up with his volunteering. She sounded busy too, her job and the girls involving their usual unpredictability. They did talk on the phone on occasion, usually one of them making some kind of excuse to call. Once, she'd rung him up to ask about the new job and he'd similarly called her to make sure the water heater he'd installed for her wasn't acting up. She would ask him about some geographical issue in one of her cases even though she probably could have looked it up online and he checked in to see if she had Tyreese's work phone number, though he really didn't need it. Even if they were short, discrete matters that only required a few minutes to address, they'd both let the conversation linger, enjoying the company and open to the sharing.

He'd finally thought of a way to get together with her and it both excited and unnerved him to start putting his plans into action. It would have to wait until later though because there were too many people around the garage right now and he had too much work to do.

Daryl tinkered with the newest vehicular casualty for most of the afternoon. Zach, one of the temporary mechanics, came in as he was taking some things apart so they chatted about the problem for a while before the kid went off to tackle his own work. He liked the young guy even if he did tend to follow him around a little too much for his liking. He wasn't nobody's damn role model but you couldn't tell Zach that.

About an hour after Zach disappeared, Daryl went back to the storage area to make sure they had everything in stock that he needed to make the repair. When he returned to his work, Jim had opened the hood of the van and was poking around the engine. Daryl's expression hardened as he approached.

"What's up, man," he tried to keep his voice neutral. There was no need to start something just yet.

Jim glanced at him and went back to scrutinizing the van. "T-Dog mentioned that he'd sent this over so I'm checking it out. He thinks something's up with the battery."

"Naw, it's the starter. I can fix it before I leave today." His response was guarded, unsure about what Jim was up to nosing around his work.

"We should replace the battery anyway," he said, starting to fiddle with it as if to take it out.

"Hey man, I done already looked into it. Battery's fine. He replaced it last month. The starter's your problem."

Jim straightened and narrowed his eyes at Daryl. "Look, I know you're new here and trying to make an impression on the boss but let me handle this."

Daryl hated the way guys like Jim would pretend that they were part of the team but secretly were taking him for some backwards hick. He might not have some fancy piece of paper to put on the wall but he'd been working on cars and building things since he was in single digits. And he knew what he was talking about here since he'd spent the afternoon eliminating other problems before deciding that the starter was the issue.

"This aint about lookin' good for the boss. The battery aint the problem, the starter is. You wanna waste your time and T-Dog's money fixin' shit that aint broke, that's on you. But don't come in here tellin' me I'm fakin' my job just to kiss somebody's ass." His words were clipped and tense.

Jim tracked his nervous movements and Daryl forced himself to back off the man. If he got in Jim's face, there was no telling how he'd react and the guy was his boss. It wouldn't do to risk a good thing making a point to this fool.

"Did you also check the alternator?"

Daryl wanted to roll his eyes. What was this? A fucking Auto Shop for Dummies pop quiz? "Aint a thing wrong with the alternator."

"And the spark plugs? You replaced them?"

This time Daryl did roll his eyes. "Man get outta here with that amateur hour shit. You wanna spend your night doing every test I just did to come to the same damn conclusion, go right ahead." He leaned down to grab his toolkit. "I'm 'a go find somethin' else to do and when ya need help fixin' that starter, you let me know."

Jim backed up and waved his hands, cracking a smile. "Apologies, Dixon. I didn't realize you had it handled."

Daryl knew that was a damn lie because the man had seen him working on the van all afternoon. He shook his head and strolled over to the work bench so he could organize his gear.

"Hey, wait." Daryl kept his back to him but turned his head to the side to let him know he was listening. "I'm not saying you're slacking off. I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

"It sure sounded like it. If you gotta problem with my work, you bring it up with me square. None of this bullshit."

"I don't have a problem with your work. You're new and a little standoffish if I'm to be honest about it but you work hard. If I'm looking over your shoulder, it's because what comes out of this department has my name on it."

Daryl turned and crossed his arms, eyes narrowed and still pissed at his supervisor. "It's got my name on it too. I got a lot to lose by not turning out my best so don't treat me like I'm some kid."

"Fair enough, Dixon." They both drew their attention to the sound of the side door opening. It was T-Dog. Daryl glanced over to Jim and wondered if he'd end up telling their boss about what went down.

T-Dog wandered over to where the two had faced off, picking up on the odd tension.

"Whoa, everything cool in here?" He had a bunch of papers in his hand and Daryl figured he had stopped by to get the weekly reports and drop off paychecks.

Jim cut his eyes to Daryl briefly. "It's cool. Daryl and I were just talking about this van you brought in."

T-Dog didn't turn around to look at the vehicle even though the hood was still up. "Oh yeah, I should have called you back on that and then I figured it could wait since I was stopping by anyway. Man, I hope you didn't go through any trouble on it. I thought it was the battery but I remembered I replaced that thing last month. It's gotta be something like the starter."

Jim flashed to Daryl again and Daryl tried not to appear too smug about the exchange. "No problem. Daryl had already figured it out. He's on it."

Looking up from his paperwork, T-Dog fixed his gaze on Daryl. "That's my man," he said, smiling. He walked over with Daryl's paycheck. "Thanks for the quick diagnosis."

Daryl, shuffled about, fiddling with the envelope in his hands. "It's nothin'. I can have it fixed before I go."

"Cool, cool. If I can get it out on the road this weekend, that'd be great. One of our churches wants to use it for picking up their elderly members for Sunday service. An extra van would be sweet."

And since Jim wasn't trying to start nothing, he could do the same. "I'll let Jim know when I'm done and you can roll it out."

T-Dog nodded, now paging through his papers. "That'll work. Come on Big J, let's get this reporting wrapped up so Dale can get what he needs." They left Daryl to his own devices and headed for the back office.

Daryl let out a deep breath and thanked whoever was listening that he hadn't gotten into it with Jim. He brought his tools back over to the van and went to work fixing the starter.

Around five-thirty, he had finished the job and knocked on the office door to let Jim know that it was done. Since the guy was on the phone, he simply pointed at the van and gave the thumbs up. Jim waved at him, indicating he could head out for the day.

He had some odds and ends to finish up so he fiddled around the empty garage for a few minutes. Looking at his phone, he contemplated his earlier thoughts on seeing Michonne again and wondered if he should give her a call. She often left work early on Fridays because of the girls. If it turned out she wasn't available, maybe it'd be better to leave a message and lay out his idea without worrying about her immediate reaction. He pulled out his phone and rung her cell.

To his delight and slight horror, she picked up on the third ring.

"Daryl Dixon. To what do I owe the honor of your esteemed attention this fine Friday?"

Daryl grinned instantly at hearing her voice. "Woman, ya know you're talkin' to a country boy. You need to speak the kind 'a English I can understand." She laughed.

"Alright. Translation: what's up?"

"Aint much goin' on, just fixin' to head out. What you up to?"

"I'm on my way to this parent-teacher meeting. Who does this on a Friday?" She paused, her attention probably diverted in the traffic around her. "Anyway, His Highness is going to be there and he's leaving the girls with Stacy so there's no telling what he'll find when he gets home." They both laughed at the mental picture of the young woman keeping up with Big Big and Lil Bit.

"Tell 'em I said 'hey'." Daryl joked.

"Oh, he'd love that," she said, chuckling. "I have half a mind to invite you over the next time he picks up the girls."

"Now there's an idea. I could really redneck it up for him. Wear my best trucker hat and camouflage. Bring some moonshine and country music. Maybe fill the truck with huntin' gear and tear down some game in the front yard."

"Right. And I'll be sure to walk around barefoot in cutoffs with a shotgun at my shoulder. We can cuss and yell at each other as he gathers the girls."

He couldn't see himself cussing and fighting with her but he sure wouldn't mind the attire, shotgun included. Daryl's heart sped up at the idea of them hanging out again, playing house and conspiring to antagonize her ex. "You a little too good at this, Michonne. Makes me wonder where in Georgia you were hidin' before I met ya." Even Daryl groaned at that line. He was so terrible at this courting business.

Michonne didn't seem to pick up on his subtext though, instead tsking his comments. "This entire conversation is actually incredibly offensive. I'd apologize but you started it."

"I'll take that hit." He started messing about with the items on the workbench trying to figure out a way to segue into his reason for calling her. "So what you doin' this weekend?"

She paused again and this time he worried that it wasn't the traffic but her stalling for how to respond to him. His intentions seemed really transparent. It wasn't like he was that smooth and she was incredibly smart.

"You still there?" he muttered.

Another pause. "No, I'm still here. This jerk just tailgated me and then cut me off. Road rage. I'm sorry, you were asking about the weekend? I'm doing a workshop for the job. I don't remember if I told you about it but I'm not looking forward do it."

Daryl now recalled her complaining about this a month ago. He didn't realize that was happening this weekend.

"Oh, okay. So no girls after the parent-teacher gig?"

"No. James is going to have to clean up whatever mess Stacy causes. I'm officially staying out of that." She cursed under her breath and grew quiet. Daryl wasn't really sure where to go from here so he was quiet as well. "Do you have plans for the weekend that I should know about?"

Daryl frowned. Not now he didn't. "Naw, I'm 'a probably go help Carol; maybe go check out some motorcycles."

"You finally ready to pull the trigger on that?"

"Soon, maybe. I still got Merle's while he's locked up." He dropped the pliers he'd been playing with and turned to lean back against the worktable. "Naw, I was just askin' 'cause I thought about takin' the girls out for a walk up in the trails by my place. I been meanin' to get my crossbow out and do some huntin', just little stuff to keep me practicin'. There's a nice lake up that way too."

He had no idea if that would appeal to her at all. It was the kind of activity he'd been doing all his life and was normal recreation for him. Maybe it was too different for her, the hunting especially.

"The weather has been nice lately," she said, warmth in her voice. "How about next weekend when I have them next." Daryl smiled and switched the phone to his other ear is if to keep her from picking up on his intense happiness at her acceptance.

"Can do," he simply replied. He hoped his quick assent didn't seem weird to her. "Maybe I can meet y'all at that barbecue place I told ya about? Have some grub before we run those girls in the woods?"

Michonne laughed. "Oh no. Having barbecue with those two without the option of hosing them down afterwards is a no-no. Trust me. What about that diner you like? The one with the good pie."

"That place is good. Let's do it. Noon?"

"Noon it is. And just so you know, I'm not getting in any lake so don't even think about suggesting it."

"You too much a city-girl to play in a lake?" he teased.

"Hell yes. There are all kinds of animals and algae and probably disgusting other things living in there. No thanks."

Daryl chuckled at her insistence. "Fine then. You be like that. We gon' shoot us some squirrels though. We gotta do something country or it aint worth the trip."

"I'll think about it," she responded, skeptically. "The girls will be really excited when I tell—ugh." Her abrupt explitive caught his full attention, brow furrowing at the interruption. "I just pulled into the school and His Highness is looking at his watch like he's so put out. Such an asshole. To think I used to find this so charming."

Daryl always felt like he wanted more time whenever they talked. Yet he was pretty satisfied that she'd liked his idea and that they'd made solid plans. Sure, he still needed to work up to setting a proper date but one step at a time.

"I'll let you go then. Give him a smooch for me."

"Shut your mouth, Daryl Dixon. Bye." She disconnected the call, laughter trailing her words.

Daryl remained leaning against the bench, ankles crossed casually. He bowed his, hiding the big smile on his face. No one was around but he felt a bit exposed and self-conscious at how much pleasure he got out of talking to her.

From out of nowhere, Zach appeared carrying some paint and a bucket of supplies. The smirk on his face let Daryl know that he'd caught at least some of his conversation.

Shaking his head, he crossed the garage to load the supplies on the truck parked in front. "Damn romance novel," he mocked as he passed.

"Shut your mouth, kid," he repeated but his grin hadn't faded. Pocketing his phone, he packed up his tools for the day and headed home.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: I know I said that I was skipping a Daryl chapter but I felt bad about it and whipped this up. Thanks lexlady for planting the seed that got me thinking on this chapter. I wrote and edited this in one afternoon so please excuse any wonkiness. And I know absolutely nothing about cars so apologies if my extrapolations read like gibberish.**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

"Stop running, please." Ursula complied and slowed to a hurried shuffle instead. Michonne shook her head at the little one's defiant pace. Octavia hung back, distracted by every little movement on the path. Daryl walked on the girl's other side so he could patiently answer all her "whats" and "whys" and "hows" surrounding the wonders she saw.

The girls got out plenty in terms of parks and back yards. Only a few times, though, had she taken them somewhere to be immersed in raw nature. Michonne worried that they wouldn't stay interested long enough for a hike but so far, the two of them loved it.

She wasn't sure if they genuinely hungered for the great outdoors or because it was Daryl, their favorite playmate, who had suggested the adventure.

Ever since her party, things had been slightly altered between her and Daryl, not in a bad way but more in an unexplored territory way. That had been a couple of months ago but since then, she made an effort to keep in touch and he had as well. For this outing, he'd taken the initiative and even if she hadn't been instantly thrilled to spend time with him on a spring hike through his childhood stomping grounds, she would have mustered the enthusiasm at the gesture. That they enjoyed each other's company was an understatement. Yet they tiptoed around the implications of their connection even as they became more social with each other and grew closer as friends.

With his new job, life kept him busy lately so they hadn't seen each other in a while. The pride Daryl took in achieving the position delighted her. An excitement exuded from him whenever he got to talking about the things he learned and the people he met on the job. Dale and T-Dog sounded like good guys—she knew of them from Andrea of all people whose firm handled their legal matters. Actually Andrea was pretty tight with Dale but that had probably fallen by the wayside the more she got wrapped up with Phillip. She still hadn't reconciled with her estranged friend and Andrea had even stopped volunteering at Carol's shelter, claiming she was too busy with work. Rumor had it that she and Phillip spent all their time together. Her continued cluelessness was both sad and maddening.

Octavia let go of her hand and hurried towards her sister who was squealing about some movement in the distance. Daryl hooted along with them as they saw two squirrels chasing after each other before running up a tree to continue their fight. It warmed her to see the girls so happy. Octavia pulled a serious face and pointed at the crossbow at Daryl's back. Whatever she'd asked, he smiled and shook his head.

"Mama, you see the 'quirrels?" Ursula called out to her.

Stopping behind them, she looked up in time to witness one of the squirrels hide in a hole while the other scampered off into the upper branches of the tree. "I see them, Urs."

"You think they got names, Big Bit?" Daryl asked Octavia.

She nodded, a coy grin on her face. "I can't tell you 'cause it's a secret."

Daryl pretended to be shocked. "A secret from your buddy Daryl?" She nodded vigorously.

"You might come back and find them and shoot them with your arrows. And then you'd eat them," she explained very logically.

Her sincerity made Michonne laugh. "She's got a point Dixon."

"She does, at that," he agreed.

They continued down the path, Ursula and Octavia leading the way. She and Daryl walked side by side, always comfortable without conversation.

She wondered what he was thinking, though. It was hard to pinpoint when it had happened but she knew her feelings for him were changing, they had been even as she made the well-considered decision to invite him to her Super Bowl party. Except for His Highness being a nosy asshole, he seemed to have had a good time hanging out with their friends and making a few new ones like Glenn and Maggie, Tyreese and Mike.

Sighing, she saw Daryl had noticed that big, unspoken thoughts were running through her mind. She smiled at him to indicate she was okay and he left it alone.

Mike had been another issue that required her attention that night. Between her ex-husband's interference, Rick trying to set her up with his friend Morgan and then Mike dropping his emotionally complicated bomb, the day had been more taxing than she would have liked. After most of the guests had gone home and only a few close friends lingered, he'd cornered her in the empty living room to try and rekindle their romance. It's not that she didn't like him; they'd been friends for a while. In fact, he'd met her when she was still married. He was dependable and a good listener. None of her friends gave better advice. They both worked at the courthouse, though; the reasons that existed when they'd decided to cool things off a few months ago hadn't changed either.

And an additional, more powerful reason had emerged: Daryl Dixon and her deep, unexpected attraction to him.

It seemed crazy to pass up a guy like Mike on the off chance that there could be anything between her and the surly country boy. The racial difference wasn't too much of an issue although she couldn't speak for him on that. But they did come from very different worlds, not to mention the fact that Daryl was a former client turned friend and still going through some serious transition issues.

At the same time, he was so much of what she wanted for herself too. He was kind and respectful. He had a sense of doing the right thing and didn't need a bunch of accolades or glory to get a job done. Carol said that he was one of the best people to ever to get involved with Sophia's Haven. She raved and gushed about him all the time and as protective as a mother bear when it came to him, or so Sasha had discovered when she tried to steal him away for her shelter.

And his unintentional charm didn't end there—her girls thought he hung the moon. That's part of the reason she found herself in the middle of a forest walking at his side as Ursula and Octavia oohed and aahed over every little thing.

When she planted that peck on his cheek, she'd opened the door of possibility within herself. This risk felt worth it.

Now it was a matter of figuring out what it all meant and whether Daryl was ready for or even interested in this thing between them. He seemed into her with the way he'd react to her or offer to do things for her. Then she'd have her doubts. He probably didn't have a manipulative bone in his body but that didn't mean that his intentions towards her were romantic rather than an appreciation for her friendship.

So lost in thought, she stumbled a little on the uneven path and he grabbed for her, arms surrounding her waist.

The spark she experienced at their closeness didn't feel imagined.

Before she could look up to see his reaction, the girls began running again as the path opened up onto a lake. "Stop running, please," they said in unison, laughing at the familiar reprimand. He'd let go of her and the girls waited for them, bouncing up and down at the latest discovery.

"See them roots here," Daryl said as they approached the two, pointing to the trees next to where they stood. "They can sneak up on ya and trip ya if you're going too fast. We don't want y'all to get hurt so slow down okay." They nodded mechanically as if to humor him and then pointed at the bigger draw around the corner.

"Mr. Daryl, are there fishies in there?" Octavia asked.

He took the girls' hands and walked closer to the edge of the lake, close enough to see the water but far enough that there was no danger of them running in. "There's a whole lotta fish in there. You gon' get their names too so I don't come and eat 'em."

They both giggled at that. "No, you can come eat the fish. But not all of them, okay. And you have to save some for Mama 'cause she likes fish too."

"One time, Mama let me have some but it was yucky," Ursula chimed in.

"You like fish sticks, Urs," Octavia offered.

Ursula thought about it for a few seconds. "Oh yeah, Fish Stick Friday at Daddy's!" Michonne tried not to roll her eyes at that. Leave it to His Highness to feed their girls frozen fish sticks instead of cooking them a healthy meal.

Daryl turned to her. "Is it okay if I take 'em out on the pier over there?"

"Of course," she said. She wouldn't have agreed to come if she didn't trust him with her daughters. "Octavia, Ursula, you keep hold of Daryl's hand okay."

"Yes, Mama," they said politely.

Michonne observed as they went to the end of the pier, the girls keeping a tight hold on Daryl as promised. Lakes were not her thing; she'd warned Daryl about that. She wasn't much for the ocean either, all those living critters swimming around waiting to nibble on your toes. It grossed her out.

They sat on the edge of the pier for a while and she watched as Daryl pointed out this detail or that fun fact. Judging by the girls' laughter, they were having a good time. After a while of that, they returned to where she sat on a log specifically built for sitting and staring at the lake from afar.

Ursula came running into her lap. "Mama, we saw turtles."

"And you can see the fish swimming around. They didn't jump up and get us 'cause Mr. Daryl said they were on their way home from school," Octavia added.

Michonne stared at her friend and he shrugged, not looking sorry for the story he'd made up for them or the corny fish joke.

"I'm glad you had fun. You wanna rest here for a bit before we had back?"

"Can we sit by the water?" Ursula asked.

Looking at how far they were from the shoreline, Michonne led them to what she considered a safe spot. "No farther than here, okay. And we'll be watching you so don't even think about sneaking up farther." Seeing two distracted nods, Michonne walked back to where Daryl was now sitting on the log. The girls had already started collecting sticks and rocks and hurling them into the water. Apparently, Daryl had tried teaching them how to skip stones but their technique was understandably lacking.

"They're going to sleep so good tonight," she commented lowering herself carefully alongside him on the thick slab of wood.

He nodded, wiping his hands on his dingy pants. "I keep forgettin' how curious they are. They'll keep ya on your toes, those two."

"That they do." The girls ran around going farther and farther for supplies to throw into the water. "Baby, no running, remember?" Ursula halted in her tracks and walked the rest of the way to her sister's side.

Daryl leaned back on the log and spread his legs out. "You hear 'bout what happened with Rick and Lori?" Michonne shook her head, turning to him with interest. "Apparently, they were having some problems so Rick moved out for a spell. And while they were separated, she and Shane hooked up."

"What? Wow! I would not have predicted that." Michonne had a better relationship with Rick than with his wife or best friend but she hadn't suspected either of that kind of behavior.

"That aint the half of it. He wadn't even too mad about the affair 'cause they were broke up at the time. But when he and Lori got back together, both of 'em lied about it for weeks and then Shane lost his damn mind, goin' off on Rick and tryin' to get him fired. I'm talkin' gone completely off the rails."

"Why would he do something like that? Shane has his issues but he's a pretty good guy."

Daryl scoffed. "Damned if I know. Maybe 'cause they found out Lori is pregnant and it's baby daddy issues now. But Lori don't want nothin' to do with Shane and Rick kinda don't want nothin' to do with Lori except for stuff about the baby."

Michonne was speechless. Only a couple months ago, they were all drinking and having a good time at her house. Who knew this was coming around the corner.

"I feel bad for Rick."

"Me too. He's always tryin' 'a do the right thing. Don't deserve that kind 'a shit happenin'."

"I hope Carl's not taking it too hard. He's a good kid. And I do feel bad for Lori too." She shook her head. "It's a tough situation. So what's going to happen with Shane?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. He aint workin' with Rick no more, that's for sure. Maybe try to get on with another police department if they'll take him. Good riddance is what I say."

Ursula showed up then with a flower she'd picked for her mother. After thanking her profusely, the little girl hurried back to their throwing spot.

Michonne glanced over shyly at Daryl, taking in his relaxed demeanor. As always, his hair was in his eyes and causing him to brush away the stray fringe from time to time. He wore baggy, worn workpants coming apart at the knees and his shirt looked like the sleeves had been torn off given the frayed edges. She hadn't seen his bare arms before, although, when he was fully covered, she could tell he was solidly built. Even though it was a warmer day than either had expected, he still sported his beloved leather vest adorned with white wings on the back. With the crossbow he strapped onto himself, he appeared completely at home in these woods. And sexy as hell.

He may not realize it but he was a beautiful man, grizzled, rugged and genuine.

"This was a great idea, Daryl. Thanks for the invite." She took in the sound of the birds and rustling leaves, the smell of wood and water. "There's no way I'd be able to navigate this place by myself, much less make it fun for the girls."

He grinned but didn't look at her. "Bein' out here kinda reminds me 'a the first time we met."

She laughed at the mental image. "I can't imagine how us being in an ugly, dirty courthouse in Atlanta would remind you of this," she gestured to the scenery around them. "It's beautiful out here. There's mostly just ugly in that place." She loved her job but it wore her down sometimes, all the fighting and sadness and violence.

"Well, it aint that damn building I'm thinkin' of, although lord knows I saw it enough times to hate it." He stared out into the lake while also keeping an eye on the girls. "When I met ya I was like a fish outta water; didn't have a damn clue what was goin' on. Then, bam, there you were, kickin' ass and takin' care 'a my shit like a pro. But out here? We're on my turf and I get to show ya what I'm made of. Take care 'a you and the girls like you took care 'a me." He briefly turned to her, gauging her reaction. Michonne wouldn't have been able to control her delight even if she'd wanted to. "And it's the least I could do after you invited me to your party; helped me get my new job and all."

She shook her head. "You got yourself that job. And you deserve the opportunity."

Reaching over, she stroked his forearm, hoping to convey her support and affection for him. His skin warmed her fingers and she felt his muscles flex at the touch. She was about to move her hand away thinking she'd made him uncomfortable but instead of retreating, he shifted his arm so that he could take hold of her hand. Sliding his fingers along hers, he gave it a squeeze.

Michonne stifled her intake of breath at the contact and pressure.

He remained facing forward not meeting her gaze. However, when she scooted over flush against him, his eyes cut to her and tracked her as she placed her chin on his shoulder. She noticed how he frowned a bit before that grin of his reappeared, joined by her own. He didn't have to be nervous alone; all this was new to her too.

A loud thump drew their attention followed by an anguished wail from several feet away. Ursula was sprawled on the ground a handful of sticks next to her. It seemed that when their attention had been pulled towards each other, she'd started running again and tripped over one of the tree roots.

Both of them jumped up and ran to her, Octavia already at her side and trying to console her little sister. Fat tears rolled down her cheek as she cried for her mother.

Michonne inspected the girl, noting that nothing was broken. When she pulled up her pant leg, there was a pretty nasty looking scrape on her knee and the shock of the impact had no doubt scared her.

"I have something to clean this in my bag. Can you carry her back over there?" she asked Daryl, pointing to the log where her bag rested. He didn't respond, just scooped the crying girl in his arms.

Pulling out her portable first aid kit, she saw that Ursula had broken out into hysterics and Daryl was becoming increasingly distressed about her crying. Michonne felt bad for her daughter too but she knew the little girl would be okay; she was just uncomfortable and hurting a bit. But Daryl, having never seen this side of her, was getting downright upset himself and that was probably feeding into Ursula's mood.

She reached for the girl and Daryl gladly handed her over, his worry getting the better of him. Handing the kit to him, she asked if he could get out the little alcohol swabs and ointment along with a big bandage to cover her cuts. With him distracted, she turned to consoling her little one, cooing to her and hugging her, telling her she'd take care of her and everything would be okay. Octavia tried to comfort her too, petting her hair and singing to her a get-well song. After a few minutes, Ursula's sobs settled to the occasional hiccup and Michonne could then focus on cleaning her up.

"I'll walk you through the surgery, Dr. Daryl," she said in her serious voice. That made Ursula smile and seemed to relax Daryl as well. "First we're gonna brush off where you got hurt and get all the dirt and germies off." Daryl gently wiped at the scrape, dislodging a bit of grass and some crusty mud.

"Next Dr. Daryl is going to take the alcohol swab and dab it over your scrape. It's gonna hurt a little like when you fell off the swing a few months ago. Remember?" Ursula nodded and sniffled a little. That time, she'd been so eager to get back onto the playground that she'd hardly complained about the emergency triage. Michonne nodded at Daryl and he dabbed at the cuts, jumping almost as much as Ursula each time she reacted to the sting. But then he'd blow on it to make it better. "Octavia's gonna help out too and make sure Daryl gets all the little, itty bitty germies." Her other daughter leaned over and watched Daryl work, every so often pointing to a spot that Daryl needed to wipe. He'd play along and thank her for her keen eyes.

"See how well Dr. Daryl takes care of you? It's a good thing we brought him with us!"

"Yeah," Octavia piped in, trying to help. She still kneeled at her sister's side stroking her hair. They fought like kittens a lot of the time yet they still were very loving siblings to each other.

Daryl continued to clean the cut until all the grime and blood were wiped away and he'd gotten Octavia's approval. "Now Dr. Daryl is going to put some ointment on and give you a big girl sticker to keep your scrape clean." Taking her cue, Daryl applied the cream to her bruised skin with Octavia making him go back to cover a spot he allegedly missed. Then he tore open the bandage to carefully place the patch on her knee, ensuring that he covered up her entire scrape.

"And there you go! You were such a big girl for us. I bet we'll have to get you some ice cream on our way home. Your sister too for being a good nurse." Ursula grinned a little, clearly excited about that plan. "Can you try to stand up for Mama and see if you can walk?" Ursula scooted off of her and got to her feet. She held her leg stiffly but she was too willful to let the injury keep her down.

"I'm okay, Mama. It doesn't hurt like before." She took a few steps and furrowed her brow just like her mother. After pulling down her pants leg, she began taking bolder steps back and forth between her and Daryl. "Ice cream, please," she requested, grabbing Michonne's hand and trying to pull her to her feet.

Daryl laughed. "Yeah, she's alright." He led them towards a different path than the one they'd arrived on, this one a little wider and less tree lined.

They walked in silence keeping an eye on the girls as they chattered back and forth about the birds that were swooping down and landing on the tree branches. A few times, Daryl had to admonish them to stay on the path; otherwise they seemed as content and entertained as before Ursula's accident. When Octavia got bored, she'd stand between Daryl and Michonne and demand they hold her hands so she could swing their arms as they walked. They'd occasionally lift her off the ground and she'd break into a fit of giggles. Then she'd find something of interest and rush back to her sister to show her.

As they made their way back to civilization, Michonne recalled the way he had taken her hand and the shy anticipation in his face. Would she see that same reaction if she took his hand right now? Before she could dwell on it more, they reached the trail entrance where her vehicle was parked next to his.

She wanted to ask if he'd join them for ice cream yet she found herself being uncharacteristically shy and cautious. For some reason, he was bringing that out of her even though she'd never really been like that with any other man that interested her romantically. Then she thought of something to stall for time as the girls climbed into the car.

"I meant to ask, are you going to Glenn and Maggie's wedding? She called me a while back to get your contact information so she could send an invite." After the Super Bowl party, Glenn and Daryl had hung out a few times since they didn't live too far from each other. Rick had probably joined them too—maybe that's how Daryl knew so much of what was going on with him.

Upon hearing her question, Daryl started to act a bit squirrely, taking a step back and looking anywhere but at her.

"Yeah, I got the invite. Thanks for hookin' 'em up." Me and Carol gon' go together. She asked me last week so …" He didn't finish the statement but he didn't need to.

Michonne's stomach fell but she tried not to let it show on her face.

Apparently, she'd read this whole situation wrong. And usually she prided herself on picking up on these things. Sure she realized that Carol had taken a fierce shine to Daryl. They were quite close and had really bonded over their similar lives. Daryl had become an enormous help with the shelter, going above and beyond what any volunteer had done for the woman. She doted on him and he pretended to hate it but would secretly smile at her demands. Thinking on it, Michonne recalled Daryl and Carol's easy rapport, full of light banter and casual conversation. His face would soften whenever she praised him and he was adamant about protecting her in the times they'd gone out together, even socially; he always walked her to her car and would scrutinize any stranger that came close to her. And he spent a lot more time with Carol than with her. The signs were everywhere.

Her head was spinning with questions and second-guesses. She hated feeling this way.

Her own attraction to him must have blinded her to what was going on with him and Carol. If that were the case, though, what was all that with the hand holding and the moon-eyes at her? Or had she just been projecting? Hadn't he shown the same, innocent gesture when she'd practically thrown herself on him at the holiday fundraiser? And he said it himself: he was feeling the need to repay her what he thought he owed. She was so embarrassed.

Michonne realized that her silence was bordering on awkward. Now that she suspected he wasn't interested in being anything more than friends and was already spoken for, she didn't want to make the situation weird between them.

"Oh, I was just asking to see who else would be there—

He interrupted with a nervous wave of his hand. "Since we hang out and stuff and she didn't have no date she just—

"Oh, you don't have to explain or anything. It's not …"

She wanted to say that it wasn't her business but that's not what she felt exactly. If they were friends and she was getting mixed signals from him, she felt like she should know. It wasn't worth pressing though.

"I was more asking because I wonder if Andrea will show up. She knows Maggie too. I need to gather my troops," she added, trying to make light of the rapidly deteriorating mood between them. She'd been looking forward to her friend's wedding up until now. It sounded like a lot of fun, a casual gathering at her father's farm—and Michonne loved any occasion where she got to hang out with Hershel Greene. But if Daryl was going to be on a date with Carol and Andrea showed up with Phillip, it would be one of the longest days of her life.

"Hey, if Andrea shows up, I won't let that prick get near ya. Neither one of 'em if that's what ya want."

An hour before, his over-protectiveness would have given her butterflies. Now she just felt like an obligation, despite it being a kind and normal gesture from the friendship she'd come to expect from him.

"No, I'm a grown-up. I'll deal with it. I wouldn't do anything to ruin Maggie and Glenn's big day. Besides, she might not even show. Andrea that is," she clarified. They stood together by her open back door, Octavia strapped in and Ursula waiting to be buckled up. "I should go before these two take off without me." She choked out a weak laugh and noticed the stressed look on his face. She felt bad for ending their lovely day on such a strange note. "Thanks again for today." Poking her head in the car, she buckled up Ursula and checked that Octavia was strapped in tightly. "Did you two thank Mr. Daryl for being nice enough to show us around?"

"Thank you, Mr. Daryl!" Octavia said waving.

"Thanks for being a doctor on my knee, Mr. Daryl."

Finally, the smile returned to his face. "Anytime, ladies." He waved at them as she climbed into the driver's seat, hearing them blow kisses at their friend before he shut them inside.

Slamming her door a little harder than she'd meant, she started the car and rolled down the window. "We really did have a good time. I appreciate you being our tour guide." Somehow her words sounded more final than she'd like. However, if her affection for him outweighed what he reciprocated, she had to start distancing herself.

Daryl nodded and hung his head for a moment, thinking on something. "Maybe we can do it again when the flowers start comin' in. I think Urs would like that."

Michonne forced a smile. "We should do that." She really hoped they could after a little time had passed. She wouldn't cut him off; the girls thoroughly enjoyed his company. Proceed with caution is what her head was telling her yet her heart was cracking and crumbling, trying to find a way to steel itself against the hurt. Maybe she could make it a group outing some kind of way.

Pulling out of the parking area, she watched as he stood by his truck, slow to climb in and follow her. As his form retreated in the distance, so went her hopes for their burgeoning relationship.

And on the way home, she talked herself into maybe giving Mike another shot.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: I appreciate y'all sticking with this even though you're probably a little mad at me right now. Also, I meant to have this up earlier but got sidetracked reading some of the other wonderful stories floating around. It's a good tactic if you need a pick me up after this. : (**_


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The wedding had been beautiful, a mix of quaint country charm and Korean custom. The early morning weather threatened rain but by noon the haze had burned off and a warm, shaded day emerged in time for the outdoor reception. Maggie was a beautiful bride and Glenn a doting new husband with their friends and family thrilled to celebrate the heartfelt union. Daryl was happy for them.

Otherwise, he was pretty miserable.

Currently, the guests were reaching the end of their three course meal with plenty of beer and wine and champagne to keep the party festive. On one side of him, his "date" was engaged in witty banter with his friend Tyreese, her laughter flaring up every few minutes over something charming he'd said. While that was going on, he and Sasha were breaking their no shop-talk rule to discuss a project he'd started working on a week before. None of that bothered him too much—he and Sasha got along fine and it was kind of cute the way Tyreese and Carol were taking a shine to each other. It was the couple across from him that had his blood pressure shooting up.

Michonne and Rick were deep in conversation, low tones masking the content of their discussion. He couldn't guess at what they were talking about. Maybe they were commiserating over Rick's relationship situation—it was something Michonne could definitely relate to knowing what he did about her and her ex-husband. Rick had moved out again, taking Carl who refused to stay with his mother. He was pretty shook up about the situation and Daryl had tried to be a friend to Rick while he was going through stuff. He'd never mentioned his problems with Michonne, though, for not wanting to burden the man with his embarrassing girl issues. But maybe he should have said something if only to prevent whatever was going on right now between the two of them.

The more the two chatted, the more he wondered. He knew Rick and Michonne were friends and would talk on occasion. Rick had become a good resource for her when she needed an off-the-record law enforcement opinion for her job and they'd been chummy on the few occasions they all spent time together. Had that camaraderie become something else in the few weeks since he'd last seen her?

It was the way they sat close to each other and the intensity and warmth of her demeanor towards him that had Daryl so tense. When they'd moved from the ceremony area to the reception, Rick had led her to their table, often with a hand to the small of her back, before pulling out her chair for her. Over the course of the meal, she'd occasionally touch his arm or hand and Rick would lean over to utter something in her ear that would make her smile.

He was used to seeing that behavior directed at him and it burned him up that Rick got all of her attention.

A few times like now, he found their heads huddled together, intently focused on each other and ignoring everyone else at the table, especially him. Or that's how it felt. And then they'd come up for air and pretend like nothing strange was going on, making comfortable conversation and commenting on the party around them.

And he couldn't even say anything because, of course, he was the one that had messed things up between him and Michonne.

He knew as soon as the words left his mouth the he had set himself up for trouble. It had been a mistake to just blurt his and Carol's plans out like that, no set up or explanation. And he kicked himself for letting her go without making sure she understood that nothing was going on with him and Carol, that she was the only woman he had eyes for. At his worst moments, he even cursed Carol for talking him into this mess in the first place. She'd asked him to the wedding because she didn't want to be the only one without a date, not because there was anything going on with them. That's not how it came across though. It _did_ seem like they were sweet on each other from an outside eye even if they were only good friends in reality, more like family than potential lovers.

He'd taken for granted that Michonne would realize that about them.

That day had been so great too, showing her and the girls the spots he'd been exploring since he was a kid. Even with Ursula getting hurt, it was as relaxed as he'd been in a while. They'd started the day with lunch before leisurely strolling through the woods together, each of them finding something to marvel at. The girls had been so excited which made Daryl eager to show them more stuff.

And with every joyful smile and gentle touch, he'd felt that maybe his infatuation with Michonne wasn't as one-sided as he thought. Sitting by the lake, he remembered one of his first impressions of her, how the scent she wore reminded him of the woods in springtime. When he took her hand, her nearness terrified him. It also set his hormones on fire, and that fire had spread, triggering so many impulses: to hold her and taste her and claim her for himself. The allure of her holding his gaze seemed to confirm that she wouldn't mind it either. When they'd walked back to their cars, he'd thought about taking her hand again but the girls had kept them occupied. He figured he'd have all the time in the world to make his move.

Then he'd implied that he and Carol were a thing and got all flustered instead of setting the record straight. She'd shut down quick and tried to hide it but he'd already hurt her without trying to. It felt terrible.

That had been about a month ago. There were a couple of texts and a phone call when Octavia insisted on telling him about her pre-school project that involved naming her imaginary squirrel play-friends. Other than that, there were no chance meetings, no social invitations and no impromptu home repair requests. That wasn't entirely unusual yet it still felt like a loss.

The worst part was that Daryl didn't know how to make things right. With any other woman, hell, any other person, he'd just blow it off and move on. Meeting Michonne and getting to know her daughters, making all his new friends; it had him wanting to hold on to these few good things to happen to him lately.

He wanted to fight for a second chance—if only he knew how.

He thought the wedding would be as good a time as any but the opportunity hadn't arisen. They'd sat separately during the ceremony and when they found their shared table, she settled as far from him as she could get and spent the afternoon talking with anyone but him—when she wasn't coddling and conspiring with Rick.

And now things were about to get even worse as Andrea made her way over to their table. Daryl had the urge to go grab another beer but there was no way he would leave Michonne to face her distant friend without him.

A glance towards Michonne caught the tension in her expression so she must have seen her coming too. At least her boyfriend Phillip was nowhere in sight. In fact, he hadn't spotted the man at all at the event so maybe she wisely left him at home. Or maybe she'd finally gotten her act together and dropped that bastard for good.

Stepping up to the table, Andrea looked around, sizing up who all was there. As far as Daryl knew, she was acquainted with everyone at the table, some better than others, of course.

"Uh, hey everybody. I thought I'd come over and say hello. It's been a while."

The table was silent as no one was quite sure how to handle the situation. Sasha and Tyreese had no quarrel with her although they were aware of how frustrating others found her of late. Carol was still a little miffed at her impromptu abandonment of the shelter. They'd found a replacement and those things just happened sometimes so she was mostly over it.

Rick was a little more wary given that he'd had a major incident with Phillip. Apparently the man had wanted to watch over Andrea during her clinic hours but visitors were strictly monitored at Sophia's Haven for safety and privacy reasons. Phillip hadn't liked the implication that their clients would feel threatened by him and insisted that he was an upstanding member of the community; Andrea had backed him up, vouching for the man with Rick. But rules were rules and Rick told him quite cordially, if a bit coldly, to either wait out in the parking lot or come back for Andrea when she was done.

Phillip had not taken that well, continuing to plead his case and argue with the sheriff. Rick just shrugged and left the man on the doorstep of the building to fume. Andrea gave Rick and earful about it and, after that, Rick was pretty through dealing with her too.

Carol was the first to speak. "Hey Andrea. It's good to see you." She stood up and gave the woman a hug and kiss on the cheek. Tyreese followed suit as did Sasha. Michonne, Rick and Daryl kept their distance, although all three nodded a greeting.

"Beautiful wedding," Andrea said when Sasha had retaken her seat. Everyone nodded and murmured their assent. Honing in on Rick, she offered a strained smile. "Hey, how's Lori and Carl? And gosh, I bet Shane's found himself some trouble too knowing him." She laughed nervously, hoping to break the ice.

Everyone at the table winced as Andrea stood by, confused.

"You could say that," he responded, fists knotting before he clasped his hands together in front of him. Michonne gave him an encouraging look that spiked Daryl's irritation again. "Lori and I are takin' a break. And, uh, Shane's takin' a bit of a break himself." Daryl snorted at the understatement, causing Andrea to stare in his direction and then look away. "Carl's fine though." He didn't mention anything about the rest of the drama with the affair and the pregnancy and the sabotage and that was probably a good thing. Too complicated for polite talk.

Andrea turned to Carol. "Is everything okay at the shelter? I talked Phillip into contributing a donation back at the fundraiser on behalf or his company."

Carol furrowed her brow and looked confused. "It must have slipped his mind. I would have remembered from the accounting we just did for our taxes. Phillip Blake at Woodbury, right?" She and Andrea turned to Sasha. "Maybe your organization got it?" Sasha shook her head. "Or I may just not be recalling," Carol offered, although that was doubtful.

Embarrassment flushed Andrea's cheeks. "That's odd. He said he'd been generous. I didn't think to check on it sooner."

Daryl scoffed. "Well, that was a while back. Guys like him are a lot 'a talk. Always got their hands in places they don't belong and never where ya need 'em." Carol frowned at his forwardness and, for the first time, Michonne gave him her attention as well. He didn't know if her glare was over the situation or directed at him personally.

Andrea sighed. "Come on guys, I'm making an effort here."

"Speakin' a which, where _is_ your boyfriend?" Daryl asked. All these other folks at the table could sit around and play nice if they wanted but he was going to cut to the chase before he considered entertaining her company.

Andrea crossed her arms, ready to defend herself. "He couldn't make it. Business matters came up." Rick looked at Michonne and then turned away.

This stoked Andrea's temper. "What have you told them?" Michonne raised an eyebrow, questioning if she realized to whom she was speaking.

"I haven't told them anything."

"She didn't have to say nothin'," Daryl added, his quick interjection an impulse to defend her. "It's not like he's been a sweetheart to a lot 'a folks here." Michonne flashed him an unreadable expression but he ignored her.

Shaking her head, Andrea's shoulders slumped in acknowledgment. "I know Phillip hasn't made the greatest impression at times. I can't excuse or explain it. But I want to make things right. We both do."

"Did he say that," Rick asked. Her silence served as clear confirmation to the contrary. Rick shrugged. "Then I don't have too much else to say on it. You and me? We're fine but as long as you're seein' that guy, I'm gonna be wary."

"It's a small world, no matter how big a place we think Atlanta is. I just don't want any animosity to cause trouble down the road."

Rick leaned back, propping his arm on the back of Michonne's chair. Daryl narrowed his eyes at that, not that anyone was paying attention to him. "That's entirely up to him. But feel free to let him know that if he doesn't watch himself, he'll have me to answer to."

Andrea frowned and turned to Michonne. "I feel like you've been poisoning them against me."

Instead of being angry at her words as Daryl was, Michonne appeared nonchalant. "I just told them the truth, that I don't like your boyfriend."

Andrea gripped the back of Carol's chair in frustration. "I didn't choose him over you, Michonne. I'm trying to build a life with a man who loves me and all you see is some imaginary monster. You hated him from the beginning."

"That's because I could see it from the beginning. You were already under his spell and you still are. That man will hurt you."

"Hurt me? He's helping people all the time but you won't acknowledge that no matter what he does, will you?"

Michonne scowled at her. "And what about the people Carol and Sasha help, Andrea? What we volunteer our time for? Or you used to anyway." Andrea huffed at the dig. "That man put his hands on me and you let it go. He probably would have turned on you too if you'd had my back."

Carol and Sasha's gasped in shock and Daryl also caught Tyreese's angry press of lips.

Rolling her eyes, Andrea then pleaded with the rest of the group to hear her side of things. "We'd all been drinking that night. It was just a misunderstanding."

"Uh uh," he heard Sasha mutter under her breath. He wasn't an expert on the subject but excusing violence with a 'we all just had a few too many' argument was not going to sit well with either Sasha or Carol.

"You can tell yourself whatever you want. The fact is that you chose a warm bed over a friend and that's why I have no time for you or your proxy excuses. And I don't give a shit if he's exposed for the bastard he is. I know that'll hurt you but it can't be helped as long as you keep your head in the sand." All of her words had been spoken with a soft, matter-of-fact intensity, her anger increasing with each accusation. With an air of finality, Michonne threw her napkin down and rose from the table. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get more wine for the table. This is Glenn and Maggie's special occasion and I'm not going to make a scene over this. It's not worth it." She wandered off towards the bar and Daryl wondered if he should go after her. Before he could decide, Rick stood up and followed.

Now Daryl really wanted to punch something.

Silence descended upon the table again, although none of the other guests seemed to have suspected anything amiss with their group. His friends were absorbing what had just gone down; Daryl remained irritated at Andrea's presence.

Finally, Carol straightened and backed her chair up as well. "Michonne's right. Let's not put a damper on the occasion." Grabbing Andrea's arm and attempting a weak smile, she guided the woman towards the farmhouse in the distance. "Let's go take a trip to the ladies room and we can catch up." Sasha and Tyreese breathed a sigh of relief at the suggestion. Daryl continued to glare. Carol may be cool with her, Sasha and Tyreese indifferent, and Rick willing to forgive but there was no love lost between him and the blonde woman.

Ten minutes later, Michonne and Rick returned with a bottle of wine which Michonne helped herself to immediately. Five minutes after that, Carol returned too, without Andrea who had gone back to her own table across the room. In the interim, Daryl had calmed down by putting the incident behind him and idly chatting with Sasha and Tyreese. None of the others discussed the matter further either and things resumed their familiar rapport from before, including the semi-awkwardness between him and Michonne.

When a few taps to glasses transitioned into a tinkling cacophony, everyone turned their attention to Glenn and Maggie who were modestly smooching to satisfy their guests.

Daryl chanced a quick gaze at Michonne's delighted reaction to the couple, her smile broad and free. Maggie did indeed look lovely but it was Michonne who stole his breath with her beauty. She was so gorgeous tonight, even more so than when she'd dressed up for that holiday fundraiser. She wore a wine-colored sleeveless dress that made him want to lean over and press his lips to her smooth, dark skin or stroke his fingers against her long legs. He hair was down this time but tied back; her makeup flawless and natural except for a hint of burgundy across her lips. It was captivating, the effect she had on him.

Toasts were given and glasses raised. He tried not to stare as Michonne leaned over to tap glasses with her table-mates, her eyes still unwilling to meet his. It pained him, the distance between them.

When conversations around them started up again, Rick got their attention with a wave of his hand.

"I know it's last minute but I was wondering if y'all were interested in spendin' Memorial Day out on the coast? Lori and I had this timeshare reserved damn near a year and with everything goin' on with us, she'd rather stay close to home. It's already paid for and it would seem kind of depressing for only Carl and I. The house is big enough for a group if folks don't mind sharin' rooms and stuff. We could bring down some food and games and make a party out of it."

It was a good sell. And Daryl thought it might have promise. It wasn't like he had shit else to do for the holiday and he did have the time off. Of course, a big factor was who else planned on going, or more specifically, whether _she_ planned on going.

"That sounds sweet!" Tyreese proclaimed, always the social butterfly. "Sasha you're going too because you definitely need a vacation." The woman glared at her brother with a wicked grin.

"I'd have to check my schedule but I'm certainly interested. Carol, we've got that grant application due at the end of May so if we finish that, we should be okay, right?"

Carol nodded, taking a sip of her wine. "I think so. I haven't been on the coast in years. Gosh, not since I was in my twenties, I think. I imagine a lot has changed."

"The bathing suits have gotten smaller for sure," Tyreese joked. She jabbed him in the arm and he pretended that she'd actually wounded him. Their flirting was getting a bit out of control. "Probably still as crowded though."

"This place at least comes with it's own backyard and it's real close to a privately shared beach. So maybe it won't be so bad." Setting his sights across the table, he narrowed in on Daryl. "What do you think, Daryl? You in?"

Michonne hadn't said anything yet but he decided that it'd be nice even if she couldn't make it. He'd try to have a good time at least. "Yeah, man, I'm in. Just tell me what to bring."

Rick smiled, brighter than Daryl had seen from the man in a while. "We'll work all that out right before I'm sure." Turning next to him, he grinned at the last holdout. "Well, Michonne, it's just you left. The peer pressure is on."

Her eyes cut around the table, darting past him more than the others. "I don't know. I have the girls that weekend and it might be a tight squeeze with all of us there. And I don't want to rain on anyone's party parade with my G rated crew."

"Oh no you don't. There's plenty of room. It's a six bedroom house on three levels. You can even have the master so you and the girls get a bathroom to yourselves. And no worries about catering to the little ones. I'm bringing Carl and Patrick so it's not like we'll be doing body shots with strippers while we're there." Everyone at the table exploded in laughter at the thought of that.

Daryl felt like he was holding his breath waiting for her answer, hoping she'd open the door for a chance to win her back.

"Alright," she finally said. "I'll ask the girls but it sounds like fun." Admittedly, she didn't appear to be entirely convinced but Daryl didn't care about that. The slight smile he wore at her answer must have caught her attention since she briefly held his gaze before looking away.

Right then and there, Daryl vowed to make things right between them again, starting tonight.

Soon after they started discussing preliminary logistics, Glenn and Maggie took their first dance, serenaded by her sister Beth, and then the reception kicked into full swing. Tyreese swept Carol up, quick to turn her around the dance floor. Sasha next dragged Rick with her when Daryl adamantly refused to embarrass himself by trying to get his two left feet to act right. She nudged him as she got up gesturing towards Michonne. He glanced over in time to see Rick giving Michonne a similar look as he buttoned his suit coat.

Maybe Rick hadn't been nippin' at his prize after all.

Left alone, Daryl and Michonne sat awkwardly across from each other, neither knowing how to proceed. Daryl took the first step and rose to move into the seat next to her. Her posture turned rigid but when he slid into the chair, she smiled over at him as she'd done in happier times.

"You better not ask me to dance, Dixon. I've heard about your two left feet."

Although the thought of swaying to the music with her in his embrace thrilled him on a level, he had no wish to ruin the fantasy by exposing his lack of rhythm.

"Aint enough champagne on the planet to get me on that dance floor."

"Not even for the electric slide?"

"Especially, not for the electric slide." The sound of her chuckles sparked down his spine. He'd missed this with her. "You might wanna cut a rug though. I remember you havin' some moves when you was at that fundraiser. Or was it the scotch talkin'?" She rolled her eyes but grinned at the memory.

Daryl was sure she hadn't seen him watching her but he'd caught her on the dance floor on his way back from re-stocking one of the bars. He'd stopped in his tracks, observing her limbs flowing and hips swaying, all sleek and feminine yet somehow powerful. It had been a sight for sure.

They watched their friends for a while, noting how drunk Glenn was starting to get much to Maggie's amusement. The father of the bride, Hershel Greene, stopped by their table for a few minutes and met with an enthusiastic greeting from Michonne. She'd made the introductions and they'd had a nice, if short, conversation. He'd liked the man instantly and enjoyed the easy and warm rapport between Hershel and Michonne. After the older man left, they chuckled at Sasha's dance moves and Rick's awkward but enthusiastic two-step. He wondered if she'd picked up on the vibe between Carol and Tyreese as the latter twirled the former in an elaborate turn. Carol's clumsy delivery only charmed her partner and made him do it again so she could get the hang of it.

"They make a cute pair," she said, referring to their two friends.

Daryl nodded. "Normally, I'd be pissed if my date bailed on me. I don't mind so much this time though." Michonne scrutinized him for a moment, trying to determine his intentions before quickly darting her eyes back onto the dance floor.

He scooted his chair a little closer to hers, noticing that she stiffened but didn't move away. It wasn't his usual thing to make the first move with a woman yet here he sat thinking of how he could get back in her good graces. Besides, she'd actually made the first couple of moves, once by planting an enchanting kiss to his cheek and again when she'd shown her interest during their walk in the woods. He may have picked up on it too late to capitalize, though there was still time to rectify that if he had his say.

The most important tactic, he figured, was being straight up with her.

"Carol and I aint together or nothin'. I guess it's pretty obvious now," he chuckled, motioning towards the dancing couple now swaying close for a slow song. Sasha and Rick were at the bar having a humorous but animated discussion with the bartender as they got another glass of wine. "I wouldn't have … "

"You don't owe me any explanation, Daryl." He recognized her sincerity when she turned to give him her full focus. "But yeah, it's pretty obvious." They laughed feeling a bit of the tension between them lift.

"I wanna explain things to ya 'cause I messed it all up before."

"No I messed things up before by being weird—"

Daryl held his hand up to stop her. "We'll call it even then."

She let out a calming breath. "Deal."

He leaned forward on the table and started picking at the modest flower arrangement angled towards where he was sitting. "Truth is, I aint real good with women so I trip over myself when I like somebody." He didn't dare look at her for fear of the negative response his admission might have. He didn't even want to imagine the picture of her frown, disapproving of his attachment to her.

"I like you too," she murmured beside him. There had been a hesitation to her response, a slight tremor in her voice. Why did it surprise him that she might be just as terrified as he was of screwing things up between them? He felt her hand on his shoulder briefly, tempting him to turn back to her. He complied. A coy grin and panicked but bright eyes met his anxious expression and his frown transformed into a smile at her approval.

He leaned back, bringing his body even with hers. The shoulder he had been admiring before was within reach and he had to stave off the impulse to put his arm around her so he could test her skin's softness. He didn't want to creep her out by getting handsy. Instead he went for what had worked before. He reached over towards her, slow enough so that she could stop him if necessary, and he took her hand, relishing the softness and firmness of her fingers intertwining with his.

To anyone around them, they'd seem like two friends sitting back and enjoying each other's company while basking in the festivities. In reality, they were two people who were about to leave friendship behind in the hopes of finding something more.

"Ya look beautiful by the way." He dropped his eyes again, embarrassed at having blurted that out.

She squeezed his hand to reassure him, caressing it with her thumb. How he'd craved this quiet acceptance from her. "You're not so bad yourself." She reached up and tugged at his collar. Carol couldn't wrangle you into a tie though?"

"Hell no," he replied, smacking her hand away. He was rapidly turning into such a sap, but he had the urge to hold her other hand in his grasp as well. Glancing towards the dance floor, he got her attention again. "So you and Rick? Is there somethin' I should know about?" he asked carefully.

"Is that what you were stewing about over there?" Her eyes held a knowing glint and he nudged her with his knee in reprimand. It was another relief that he wouldn't have to tear Rick's throat out for stealing his girl.

"It aint right to play with a man like that, Michonne. He might embarrass himself makin' a manly show for your affections."

Michonne rolled her eyes. "That's true. But, despite the sexism of it, a manly gesture might prove to be effective anyway." She reached up and stroked his cheek. "And there's nothing going on with me and Rick. He's going through a rough time and dealing with things I'm very familiar with. We're just being supportive to each other." She dropped her hand and glanced away for a moment. "Also, maybe he had a few choice words on not jumping to conclusions about folks when they obviously care for me."

"Amen to that." She poked him in the chest, making him smile through the sting of her jab. The woman really didn't know her own strength. He threw caution to the wind and put his arm around her like he'd wanted; he sighed over how good she felt against him. "And that's what I figured anyway, 'bout you and Rick," he tried to play off. Her laughter caused a tightness in his gut and he eyed the line of her neck up to the apple of her cheek and the brightness in her eyes. That light in her filled him up and made him feel like he could do anything and be anything for her.

There were a few things he had in mind to start with.

Rather than continue down his increasingly lecherous train of thought, he willed himself to change the subject. "Now tell me, how are my girls doin'?" Michonne grinned and pressed into him for a moment. Unable to resist, he rested his head against hers, cheek to crown, as she hovered close to him. The contact was as intimate as a kiss, although not as satisfying.

Daryl vowed not to wait too long to conduct a proper comparison.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: Special thanks to those folks to whom I can't send my personal appreciation. As always, thank yous and kudos to everyone sticking around and supporting the story (no cookies for FFN's servers that lost my edits and slowed my update for the second time this week). **_

_**Also, I'm broadcasting a warning that this story will get bumped up to an M rating in the near future in case that's not your bag. I'll be sure to post a clear notice about it though. **_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Michonne called for Ursula and Octavia as they took off running down the beach. It was early so the holiday crowds hadn't hit the outdoors yet but there were still enough people about to confuse the girls if they got turned around.

She relaxed when she saw that they were heading for several of her friends and vacation housemates that were coming towards her with coolers, towels and beach chairs. The girls danced around them telling them all about the birds and waves and puppies they'd seen so far during the last hour.

The sun radiated off the sand, hotter than she would have expected for this time of year. Not that she minded. Urs and Tavi were like little lizards so they were soaking it up, and at least the water would be warm enough for them to enjoy. She was hoping to tire them out so they'd go to bed tonight without any problem and she could get in a little adult time with her friends.

The house that Rick had rented was perfect and just large enough for all of them to fit snugly, everyone sharing a room. It spread out over three levels, the kitchen and a common area as you walked in, four bedrooms upstairs and a huge entertainment area and a couple more bedrooms in a lower third level that opened up into a sizeable backyard. It was on one of the barrier islands close to Savannah and the property and its surroundings were beautiful. As a bonus, Rick had correctly predicted that the private beach kept some of the crowds at bay.

Because of everyone's schedules their arrivals had been staggered; Rick and his boys along with Glenn, Maggie, Beth and Hershel drove down Thursday night. That Maggie had dragged her dad out for a mini-vacation turned into a pleasant surprise for Michonne—she hadn't been able to talk to him or Beth much at the wedding. Sasha, Tyreese and Carol came in Friday afternoon, Tyreese practically dragging both ladies out of the office for a well-earned long weekend. Michonne couldn't make the trip until Saturday morning because of work and because she didn't officially get the girls from His Highness until Friday night; he'd been annoyingly rigid about not changing his routine to accommodate. She hadn't pushed him about it since it wasn't a huge deal and the guy's stress levels were off the chart dealing with his high maintenance fiancée and an upcoming wedding.

Daryl rode up with her too even though she'd tried to get him to hitch a ride with Carol or Rick so he could enjoy a longer holiday. He'd refused, of course, and she appreciated it later when the girls had been practically bouncing out of their seats in excitement for their weekend. He ended up doing most of the driving so that she could focus on reigning in their antics.

As everyone joined her and got themselves settled on the beach, Michonne felt a sense of peace and community having these friends around her. It wasn't until sitting out in the backyard last night, watching the girls play and everyone unwind for the week, that she realized this kind of relaxation had been missing from her life, especially since her divorce. Instead, everything revolved around work or taking care of the girls. She hadn't spent enough time with her friends beyond the occasional happy hour or children's birthday party, and her Super Bowl party, of course. All that was changing and her life seemed improved for it.

And finally, she felt a definitive transformation between her and Daryl which pleased her but also filled her with the dread of the unknown. Although she most certainly wasn't abstaining from sex, it had been a while since she'd thought about exposing herself to the complications of a relationship; even with Mike she had remained distant for wanting to be sure that the chance of being hurt warranted the risk. With Daryl, she still felt those insecurities and fears. Yet she also anticipated the thrill of jumping into whatever awaited her on this strange path and doing so with a man she was certain had committed himself to the adventure as well.

To think she'd foolishly been ready to give up on him after assuming he and Carol were an item. Amazingly, he hadn't given up on her.

Nerves preceded her appearance at Glenn and Maggie's wedding, wondering how things were going to be between the two of them, in addition to fretting over Andrea's possible attendance. It was almost a relief that the latter debacle had turned out to be as stupid and pointless as she'd predicted, even if she'd hoped for better with her old friend. For a moment, she'd considered asking Mike to go with her but she just couldn't muster any enthusiasm for the man after the way Daryl had gotten under her skin. It wouldn't have been fair to lead him on or subject him to the weirdness she expected from the occasion. Instead, she'd convinced Rick to buddy up with her at the event since he wasn't bringing a date either. He'd given her a subtle sassing for assuming the worst about Daryl without getting the whole story but promised he wouldn't abandon her. It ended up being a nice time with him, both able to indulge in a bit of wedding sarcasm given their romantic histories.

Seeing that she and Daryl were at the same reception table as the rest of their friends worried her too—until she saw right away how Tyreese and Carol were getting on. Then the doubt crept in followed by hope followed by embarrassment and panicked expectation. It didn't make her feel any better to see that Daryl was just as miserable as she.

And when he stepped up to make the first move. Her heart didn't stand a chance against it.

Until now, life had prevented them from capitalizing on their new romantic status. Michonne's caseload took an overwhelming turn and Daryl had been busier than usual as well. But it was enough that they were finally on the same page about how they were feeling and what they might want from each other. That night of the wedding, they'd done a bit of hand holding and generally stayed close to each other, leaving any further advances for a more private and future setting. At the end of the night, he'd walked her to her car and kissed her briefly on the lips without any attempt to take things further.

At this point, they were both more than ready—achingly ready—to take things to the next level.

Daryl set up his chair next to hers and plopped down, keeping an eye on the girls playing nearby. He looked behind her and then in front of her, sizing her up. She had on a floral patterned bikini, the bottoms still covered by her shorts. It was probably more exposed skin than he'd ever seen of her. Whatever he was thinking brought a wicked grin to his face.

"You gon' put some sun screen on, right? Can't have ya burnin' up out here." He eyed her again, gaze lingering along her back. To her, it looked like _he_ was the one burning up. "I could help ya out with that." His words held absolutely no subtlety or subtext as to what he had in mind: he was eager to get his hands on her.

Michonne turned her nose up. "I appreciate your concern but the girls and I already applied our sun screen, thank you very much."

"Even on your legs?" he asked, hopeful. He tugged at her shorts, probably to emphasize his point and get her to strip them off.

"Got that part covered."

"And your back?" His counter was accompanied by a few fingers lusciously brushing against her hip and moving upwards as if inspecting her.

"Yes, even on my back. Octavia was very thorough." What she didn't reveal was that his touch had her considering a second application.

"Hmph. Woman, you better wait on me next time. I'm 'a be on it," he said, sulking.

She laughed. "What happened to me not risking skin cancer? Besides, you snooze, you lose, Dixon. I guess you needed that extra beauty sleep after being up with the boys so late last night."

Daryl shook his head. "Those fools were in bed by eleven and I wadn't far behind, all that drivin' we did."

"I know. I meant to get stuff ready for this morning but I was out like a light after getting the girls to bed."

He poked her in the arm. "Is that where ya got to last night? Thought you were hidin' from me." The playful expression on his face suggested he was only joking but the heat in his eyes told another story.

"Now why would I go and do a silly thing like that?" She leaned over to offer him a quick kiss just as two little balls of energy attacked her.

"Mama, let's go in the water now," Octavia pleaded. She and Ursula were grabbing each of her arms, trying to pull her into a standing position so she could follow them out into the ocean.

"C'mon, Mr. Daryl, you go too," Urusla said. "And tell Mama to come play."

This part of the vacation she'd been dreading. Just like with the lake, she hated these large bodies of water that had all kinds of living creatures swimming around waiting to prey on her.

"You heard Lil Bit. Ya better get out there, Mama," Daryl said smugly. She glared at him and let the girls pull her up. When she got to her feet, they initiated the same move on Daryl and she got her turn at being smug. "You know what I think, girls. I think your Mama's scared 'a the water."

Octavia laughed. "Nuh uh! My mama's not scared of nothing. And she took us swimming when we went to my friend Ashley's house so she likes the water."

"She likes that kind 'a water but she don't like the kind 'a water that might have fish in it, like when we went to the lake." The older girl seemed to consider it and then swung her head back to Michonne as if she was out of arguments on her behalf. "Maybe your Mama's scared 'a fish." Michonne shook her head and took Octavia's hand.

Octavia thought about what he said and then her eyes lit up with an idea. "But if Mama was scared, she wouldn't let me or Urs go 'cause she won't let scary things get to us. I think she doesn't like to be by the fish 'casue she wants to eat 'em, not be friends and play where they play."

Michonne looked over her shoulder at him and smiled over her child's point.

"Good lord, if this aint ever your kid right here."

"Can't argue with sound logic, Dixon, even from a five year old." she shot back.

"I tell ya what girls. How 'bout y'all let your Mama relax for a while and I'll take you out into the water." Ursula looked unphased but Octavia frowned at the suggestion. She was a Mama's Girl after all.

"I don't think that's a good idea having the two of them by yourself. They'll only gang up on you," she said, smoothing back Octavia's wild hair.

"Aint no thing. I gotta plan." He turned to the group of their friends, happily chatting and preparing themselves for the afternoon. "Hey Tyreese, I gotta job for ya." Tyreese had just finished helping Carol with her sunscreen causing Daryl to turn back around and glare at Michonne.

"What's up," he called from his beach towel.

"I need a hand wranglin' these two firecrackers. Ya up for a workout?"

Tyreese smiled and jogged over to them. He picked up Octavia and the little girl's worried expression turned to delight. "I think I can handle that." Daryl winked at her and then joined Tyreese as he chased the girls to the water.

"They're cute," Carol said, smiling at the two men frolicking with her girls.

Michonne lowered herself back down onto her beach chair. "They are. Keepers."

"Yeah." The two women looked at each other and laughed. Michonne picked up the stray toys and collected them in a pile before settling down with her book. Carol glanced over at her. "I guess if there's one person I don't have to give my 'be careful with Daryl' speech, it's you."

Michonne turned to consider the woman next to her behind dark sunglasses. Even though she'd been off the mark about Carol and Daryl dating, she was well aware of how close the two were regardless.

"No, you don't have to remind me, although it's nice that it crossed your mind. For his sake."

Carol nodded. "There's so much of myself I see in him. This beaten down soul who's kept this force field around himself to cope. But he's special. I recognized that right away."

"You did," Michonne agreed. "He couldn't have made it this far without you."

"Well, he did all the hard work himself. I just kept him in line." She sighed. "I remember early on, he almost quit on me. He was so frustrated about having to juggle work and his volunteering and Merle while being surrounded by all these new people who he just _knew_ thought he was some worthless hick." She shook her head. "I had to talk him down. Explain that he's every bit as good as Rick or Shane or anybody else he was fretting over. In some ways he's better because he was dealt a bad hand but making his life mean something rather than sitting around complaining about what he can't do or taking it out on other people."

Michonne hadn't heard about that. "I know he appreciates how supportive you've been to him. He's told me so."

Carol waved her off. "How can you not? Just look at him."

Daryl was holding Octavia in the water and lifting her high up each time a wave came close to her. The little girl would pretend to be brave but would hold onto Daryl like her only lifeline. Michonne noticed how Daryl had kept his shirt on as he entertained the girls, self-conscious about the scars that cut across his back. She could spot the tattoos underneath the thin material and frowned at the hidden reminder of his past trauma. But her smile returned at seeing how much he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her daughters.

"I know it's not always going to be this good. I think we're both committed to this but we're also from such different worlds. That hasn't been tested yet and I'm a little scared for when that happens."

So far, they hadn't gone through anything but the most minor of tiffs—except for the whole misunderstanding about Carol which wasn't really a fight. It was inevitable that the more they were involved in each other's lives, the more they'd have to confront their varying perspectives, maybe clash over different expectations. What mattered most was that they believed in the same foundational values of treating each other with respect and sincerely wanting their relationship to work; yet it's the details and micro-aggressions that end up causing the biggest dents sometimes.

"When it does, you'll just have to be patient and work through it." Carol picked up her own paperback and started leafing through it. "He tends to lash out when his emotions overwhelm him. And he can be a wild dog when cornered or threatened or someone messes with his pack. I'm surprised he didn't get on Andrea's boyfriend when he started causing problems."

Michonne winced. "If Phillip Blake crosses his path again, I don't see him being as restrained." Carol murmured her assent. "I just want him to know something more positive than what he's had before. I'm hoping the girls and I show him how happy he can make people."

Carol reached over and squeezed her arm. "You're doing fine. Both of you are." Michonne's cheeks warmed. Checking once more that Daryl, Tyreese and the girls were doing okay, she focused on her book.

After giving Michonne a bit of time to herself, Octavia and Ursula insisted that that she come play with them. Succumbing to the inevitable, Michonne shed her shorts and relieved a winded Tyreese, joining Daryl and the girls near the shoreline. They played in the water for a while, Daryl taking Octavia and Ursula a little deeper into the waves while Michonne hung back by the sandier areas. Ursula would occasionally come sit with her as the water lapped at them gently, the little girl giving chase to the receding water from time to time. Daryl would sit with them too, sporting the cutest tousled hair and water logged swim gear as he ogled her bikini-clad form.

They ate lunch as a group at the beach with everyone coming and going at their leisure. All the guys had to find some kind of a sport to get into and started up a friendly game of volleyball with some other vacationers. Daryl had never even played before but insisted on mastering it as a show of his alpha status. Maggie and Beth and Sasha joined them for a bit and Michonne laughed when they wiped the floor with the guys. Apparently both Maggie and Sasha were volleyball stars during high school. Beth wasn't as good but she got a phone number or two for her efforts anyway. Hershel and Carol were mostly content sitting underneath their umbrellas and reading; after some coaxing, Tyreese finally convinced Carol to take a walk with him along the water. Rick and his boys stayed close to Michonne and the girls, the adults supervising as they built sand forts and had water gun fights.

After spending most of the day at the beach, they returned to the house and prepared a simple dinner with lots of pasta and salad and bready morsels, both sweet and savory. They'd done a full cookout the day before and the simple meal felt like a good end to the day and to their weekend. Everyone but Michonne and her crew were leaving before noon to make the long trek back to Atlanta or, in Glenn and Maggie's case, a road trip down the coast as a delayed honeymoon. She opted to leave a bit later to hopefully avoid traffic since she didn't mind getting back late.

She and Daryl were still kind of tiptoeing around each other, staying close but not too close. It was easy to keep up appearances with the girls running around and demanding their attention. Once she put them to bed though, the simmering energy between them became harder to manage. When she'd emerged from the room upstairs, he'd held a spot next to him with a glass of her favorite wine waiting. Settling in next to him, he put his arm around her, a bit awkwardly at first, yet with an assurance aided by her encouragement and the alcohol he'd been enjoying throughout the evening.

Hershel had retired early since he was leaving first thing in the morning and, as a recovering alcoholic, probably didn't want to dampen the atmosphere. His retreat was met with many a protest but everyone understood. Beth retired to her room too to catch up with her friends through various social media means; there was only so much fun she could have with the mostly much older group. Carl and Patrick were in their room playing videogames.

Everyone was letting loose, taking a break from their stresses whether it be Rick's marriage or Carol's and Sasha's budget woes, Tyreese's recent work injury or The Rhees and Greene's post-wedding comedown. It was a good night for them, festive and full of optimism and good cheer. Tomorrow would be a return to that reality, probably tinged with more than a few hangovers. However, tonight they were free to enjoy themselves.

Around midnight, Michonne went to check on the girls, leaving behind a brilliantly drunken discussion about zombie survival skills. Ursula had woken up a little when she entered the room but she'd sung her back to sleep.

Coming back down the stairs, she found Daryl alone in the kitchen grabbing himself a beer from the fridge. He was wearing another one of his makeshift sleeveless shirts with his beat-up work pants, looking particularly rough and tumble. Walking around the island counter, she slid in next to him as he searched for a bottle opener to work off the cap. When he swayed into her, she wasn't sure if it was an attempt to get closer or a product of his tipsiness.

"Urs and Tavi still knocked out?"

She bumped back into him, causing him to miss his mouth as he took a sip. He scowled at her before returning the gesture.

"For the most part. Urs woke up a little but I put her back down. They're pretty exhausted after today."

"We gon' have to wear 'em down for the car ride home too. They were wired on the way up."

"I know. I imagine it won't be as exciting to head back to their old rooms and return to school and daycare in the morning.

He turned to face away from the counter, leaning back a bit to balance himself. It was nice to have a few quiet moments alone together.

He took another sip of his beer and eyed her over the rim. "What about you? You tired too or ya still got a little bite left to ya?" Placing the bottle on the counter, he grabbed her hand and pulled until she stood in front of him. He reached for her other hand too and intertwined their fingers. His query came off as both a question and an invitation. Michonne smiled, thinking that he must have really had a few if he was being this flirty with her.

In truth, she was tired. Being up early with the girls and all the activity and cooking and revelry had taken much of the wind out of her sails. Yet, she felt like she could stir up a little energy to play along with whatever he had in mind. It's not like it could lead anywhere too intimate since he was sharing a room with Tyreese and the girls were already occupying her room.

"So it's a little bite you're looking for?"

Daryl shrugged. "Wouldn't mind is all." From a distance, they heard boisterous laughter coming from the entertainment area on the level below.

"I'm not sure there's much opportunity for that with all these folks afoot."

He looked over his shoulder, still hearing the murmuring of the group but not seeing a sign that anyone was headed for their location. When he turned back to her his eyes were smoldering, an alluring heat to his gaze. "Gotta make your own opportunities. Aint that right?" She met his challenge by shifting nearer into him. Not having anticipated her move, Daryl took a deep intake of air as her body pressed into his.

Feeling him tense, Michonne kicked herself for not taking it slow. No matter how bold Daryl was acting he still required a respectful deliberativeness. Before she could move away, though, he quickly dropped his hands to her sides and held her in place. His eyes showed apprehension but also a fire that Michonne thought was surely reflected in her own.

They'd never been this close before and there were so many details Michonne registered at once; how hard and solid he felt against her yet how gently he held on to her body. He was taller than her but not by too much. She fought the impulse to explore his features with her fingers, noting every crevice and birthmark and stubbled contour. When he peered down at her, it was with the softest, most complicated blue eyes, wounded and strong and focused only on her.

Not willing to wait any longer for the right moment to present itself, she reached up and pressed her lips to his, sampling him thoroughly for what was hopefully one of the first of many times.

Daryl immediately closed his eyes at the contact and squeezed her waist while also pushing slightly into her body. It was as if he'd been waiting for her to give him a signal because once she'd initiated the contact it triggered a passion in him that she found more intoxicating than the glasses of wine she'd had that evening. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and tasted her, reminding Michonne of how many times she'd thought of doing the same thing to him. She didn't hesitate before reciprocating.

Moving to cup her face, Daryl indulged in his desire to caress her with his hands. When his thumbs slid across her cheeks, he deepened their kiss further, pulling back to catch his breath and then going in for more. She moaned softy into his mouth, a breathy release of sound, and his needy growl answered her as he flipped her around. With her back now against the counter, he devoured her as he anchored himself against her body.

Before retreating, she took his bottom lip between her teeth to give him the bite he'd requested, heart fluttering at the grin this elicited. He didn't let her step away. Instead he pulled her flush against him in a massive embrace.

"I'm one lucky bastard bein' here with ya like this."

She kissed his shoulder. "We're both lucky." Stroking his back, she felt him sway slightly as he tightened his hold. "And you're adorably affectionate when you've had a few," she added, amused at his version of gushing.

He leaned back to look down at her. "I aint drunk if that's what you're gettin' at. Just …" He searched her eyes for the right way to express himself given that he wasn't a man used to broadcasting his feelings. He caressed her cheek again. "I'm glad you're here." She knew he didn't mean in this house or on this island but in his arms on her way to settling into his heart. Reaching up to kiss her on the forehead, he returned to wrapping her in his arms.

As the sound of their words faded away, the first thing she noticed was how warm he was surrounding her like this. The next more satisfying emotion was how safe she felt staying right where she was. He lowered his head down into crook of her neck and gave her a small nip of his own before kissing the same spot and nuzzling into her skin. The gesture made her giggle like one of the girls.

They held each other, her cheek resting at his shoulder and his leaning into her neck. The tremors that seized him as their bodies maintained the intimate contact reverberated through her as well; more than once, she brushed against his hardness at her hip. She realized that the longer they embraced, the more he fought against his racing lust. She was reigning in the same desire to take things further.

"There you two are," a voice said from the hallway. It was Maggie carrying two empty bottles of wine to add to the others by the sink. When she saw the position the two were in, she halted and frowned. "Is everything alright? Has something happened?"

Daryl's nerves kicked in and he dropped his arms from her. Michonne was slower to let go but when she stepped away, she felt Daryl's hand reach out to ensure she didn't go too far.

Taking in their demeanor, she could understand how Maggie had misinterpreted the mood between them. She'd been holding Daryl with a serious fierceness; Daryl had been clutching onto her for dear life, spurred on by his intense want. Even now, he seemed rattled and upset, almost as if he would crack at any moment. Maggie had simply mistaken his desperate lust for despondence.

"No everything's fine. We were …" Michonne had no idea how to explain to polite company what had gone on between them just now. Maggie stared between the two of them, worry creasing her forehead.

"We were workin' some stuff out," Daryl offered. It was a decent enough half-truth.

"Oh," Maggie said taken aback. "So are y'all good now? You were acting so strange at my wedding. I mean, I figured you'd fixed things before this weekend but whatever happened is all settled then?"

Michonne nodded. "We're good. We promise. No more weirdness."

The problem was that they were a little too good at the moment and it was killing them.

"Yeah, me and Michonne, we're square."

Maggie backed up, sparing them one last glance before grabbing another bottle of wine off the counter. She'd be gossiping about them in a moment, no doubt.

Daryl let out a breath when she turned the corner. "Damn, folks are nosy 'round here."

She rubbed circles into his back. "They're our friends and they care about us."

"Well, they need to start carin' 'bout their own business and get outta ours." She could tell he wasn't really mad at Maggie, just frustrated—in more ways than one. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "And who knows what coulda happened if Maggie hadn't 'a walked in. I mighta got to second base," he grinned, taking a long drag from his beer.

Michonne pinched him in the side. "I don't think so." Although her response to him might have made the issue a murky one, they were definitely not ready for that kind of development to their relationship. "What kind of a girl do you think I am?"

He pulled her into his side and planted a kiss at her temple. "Best kind 'a girl. And you're mine." She wrapped her other arm around his front and hugged him. "Now let's get back to the party 'fore Maggie has 'em thinkin' all kinds 'a crazy shit about us."

"You sure you're up for it," Michonne asked, grinning and glancing down to his groin area.

He glared at her choice of words. "You had to go shootin' off that smart mouth, didn't ya?" he replied. Nevertheless, he let her go first so he could get himself together.

"This smart mouth is all yours too. But that's for later." She flashed him a coy look over her shoulder and disappeared down the stairs. She heard him cursing behind her before he retreated and gave himself a little more time to recover.

TBC …


	15. Chapter 15

_**Please note that the rating for this story has been bumped up to M.**_

* * *

**Chapter 15**

It was near midnight when Daryl pulled into Michonne's driveway, slamming the door as he exited his truck.

The full moon shone high overhead and, for once, the stars were visibly dotting the cloudless night sky. It would have been a great evening for camping, or simply sitting outside taking in a few of nature's beauties surrounding him. With the girls, they could have roasted marshmallows and told adventure stories in the fading light. With only Michonne for company, they could have found some fun trouble for themselves after enjoying the amenities of the great outdoors.

Instead, he returned to Michonne's place after a long day of work, pissed off and frustrated. Yet there was nothing he could do about the wasted evening at this late hour except get over it. Walking into the house, darkness and silence greeted him, although he hadn't expected any different.

Throwing his keys on the foyer table, he walked straight to the kitchen and put the box he was carrying into the refrigerator. Earlier in the evening, he'd picked up Michonne's favorite dessert and thankfully it had kept through all his delays getting to her. He stored it away and noticed that there were lots of leftovers, more than usual given that she didn't have the girls this week. She must have gotten dinner for them. An overwhelming urge arose to slam the door to the fridge also but he refrained.

It had been over a month since they'd spent Memorial Day with their friends and he'd barely gotten any time alone with her.

Ever since that too brief make-out session in the kitchen of the vacation home, he hungered for her damn near every minute of every day. He'd be going about his business and then wonder what she was wearing or what her mood was at that moment. He'd want to hear her voice. It felt strange and he had to fight the impulse to think himself weak for wanting her as he did. Surely Merle would make fun of him for it—he had to remind himself that it didn't matter because Merle was out of the picture for now. And every time he overcame some insecurity, he felt more powerful having worked through it. Her acceptance of him justified the vulnerabilities he struggled with.

Following Maggie's interruption, they had gone back downstairs and continued their evening as before. Michonne retired to bed not long after and most everyone else went on to fall asleep while watching some action movie on the big screen television. The next day brought a lot of activity as everyone prepared to leave. They'd started for home in the late afternoon, Michonne doing most of the driving this time while he entertained the girls in the backseat. Even though he was exhausted by the time they hit Atlanta, he mustered enough energy to offer a more than convincing good night kiss in her entryway before heading back to his place.

Then the madness started.

That week, one of Michonne's plea deals fell through and she found herself unexpectedly going to trial. And when she was in trial, that took over her life outside of taking care of the girls. So for two weeks he'd talked to her on the phone a few times to check in but otherwise hadn't seen her or touched her or done any of the things that had been on his mind and hers.

When she'd finished with her trial, she was understandably tired so he came over with dinner and then watched her fall asleep on him during one of her favorite TV shows. He'd put her to bed and then headed home, both to avoid acting presumptuous about their relationship and also for not trusting himself to stay overnight with her and keep his hands to himself.

That same week, she subbed in for one of the attorneys at clinic night for Sophia's Haven. He thought things were looking up when she called him to invite herself over to his place afterwards. He dropped by to lend a hand as well and there had been a nervous energy and eagerness buzzing between them. Carol had a good laugh over their transparent, teenage behavior.

Less than humorous was their arrival at his place where they were greeted with a broken water pipe. Daryl spent three hours fixing it, including a drive all over creation looking for a store that was open and had the part he needed. By the time he'd finished, Michonne was curled up in his bed, fast asleep. At least he'd gotten to lay next to her that night and experience the tease of her warmth so easily within reach. She'd woken up early the next morning to run back to her place and get ready for work, eliminating the opportunity for any morning recreational activities.

That weekend started her rotation with the girls and it felt weird to think about romancing her when they were underfoot. Besides, Octavia had come down with a summer cold and Ursula followed soon after so Michonne had her hands full with them, Daryl providing the occasional assist.

Another exhausting week for her meant no alone time for the two.

That led them to tonight. It was the first time that Michonne was both free from work responsibilities and without the girls. They had been talking up plans all week, each ongoing description more decadent than the one before. She was just as frustrated as he and had started threatening to track him down so she could have her way with him. Her impatience amused Daryl since she had originally been so adamant about them taking their time, spinning tales on how they needed to go out on dates and talk about their life goals and such. Daryl was fine with all that. He respected her boundaries and had worries of his own about getting close to her.

And at the end of the day, no matter how extravagant their fantasies got, they were mostly looking forward to simply spending some unhindered, extended time together. They didn't need a fancy dinner or candles or roses, just each other.

He'd been on his way to her place early enough to surprise her, when he got the call from T-Dog that there'd been an accident on one of their projects. In the months since starting his position, he'd taken on a lot of new responsibilities once Jim and T-Dog realized what a reliable worker he was. One of them was oversight of their construction work when they had to use contractors rather than their own small staff. Some idiot had picked five o'clock on a Friday to drive his truck into a storage unit and it had taken the entire night to sort out the liability issues and paperwork for the insurance company.

Both Dale and T-Dog had arrived on site during the evening and were mildly amused by how pissed off Daryl was, going on about how he had a fine-ass woman waiting for him yet he was in some shithole suburb of Atlanta cleaning up after dumbasses. Daryl was known for being a little surly at times, but the front row seat for his temper tantrum had at least lightened up the situation for his bosses.

He'd called Michonne to explain what had happened and, of course, she understood even if she was disappointed. Though he told her not to, she promised to wait up.

So it was past midnight and he found himself standing in the dark kitchen wondering what he should do next. On the one hand, he was starving and exhausted. On the other, he really wanted a piece of Michonne, even if it was to kiss her goodnight and tuck her in before crawling in bed next to her, maybe put his shitty evening to rest as well. He crossed into the living area and was about to climb the stairs when he saw a head pop up from the couch.

She had waited up for him after all. So focused on his earlier annoyance, he hadn't noticed when he walked in. Moving around the couch to kneel in front of her, he was now at attention.

Watching her sleepy, wandering fingers brush his hair aside, he instantly relaxed, closing his eyes in pleasure at her touch. When he opened them back up, he got a better look at the sultry image that greeted him: her shadowed skin melding so beautifully with a short, dark silk robe. Although it was tied at the waist, he could see the bright trim of something underneath that was probably even more tantalizing.

"Thought I told ya not to wait up," he chided.

"I don't think this qualifies as waiting up," she mumbled, a smile at her lips. "Everything get worked out?" Her groggy eyes were slow to focus and her arm had stilled against his chest.

Daryl clasped her hand in his and kissed it. Liking the sensation of that, he leaned down and kissed her lips as well. Despite her sleepiness, she responded with enthusiasm, never lifting her head from the couch but devouring his mouth nonetheless. He pulled back but kept his gaze on her lovely face, studying her delicious lips and the eyelashes that rested on her cheek as her lids shut again. Expanding his assessment, he noticed how her legs seemed endless and lithe, one slithering against the other in the darkness and cut off from view at the edge of her barely functional night clothes. Sweeping her hair off her shoulder, he then let his hand drift down her arm to her waist where he twirled the tie to her skimpy robe in his fingers.

"You don't want to pull that, trust me."

"Why the hell not?" he challenged, feeling defiant. If she was going to wrap herself up in a pretty little package, she could at least let him open it up and see what he could look forward to playing with.

She smiled and shifted so that she was on her side facing him. "Because if you see what I've been wearing while I waited all night on you, it'll only piss you off more."

Daryl dropped the sash and gripped her backside instead, an insistent pressure reflecting his desire for her. "Can't say you're off the mark on that. Aint lookin' for no more bullshit today." She rubbed soothing strokes up and down his arm. "Might need help workin' off some steam though." She laughed as he pressed his lips to her forehead, then her cheek and finally her lips.

Pleased to get a taste of him again, she hummed into his kiss. His arousal flared hot and desperate when she licked her lips after his retreat. "Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Not yet," he responded, a squeeze to her hip as he grinned.

She threw his hand off. "Such a lech," she chuckled. But she grabbed his shirt and tugged him to her once more; he resumed his exploration of her, stroking his fingers along the hem of her robe. When they came up for air she ran her hand through his hair. "Go warm yourself up something to eat. I picked up that chicken alfredo you liked from Luigi's." Then she sat up and planted her feet on the floor. "I'm gonna go climb into bed. Come join me when you're done."

Daryl hopped up from the floor and sat beside her. "You gon' be knocked out 'fore I even get up there. Aint no fun in that."

"Sure am." She flicked his chin with a lazy finger. "Don't pout. Things might look up for you in the morning if you play your cards right." She stood and dragged him to his feet as well, embracing him loosely.

"That better be a damn good wake up call," he said, kissing her forehead again before letting her go and heading for the kitchen. There was a smile on both their faces at the thought.

True to her word, Michonne was deeply asleep and burrowed under the covers by the time he'd eaten, cleaned himself up and crawled into the bed next to her. He thought it would be another night of torture having her semi-naked, inviting body beside him. However, he was genuinely exhausted and joined her in slumber thinking about how fantastic she looked and felt in silk lingerie. It was all he dreamt of for the rest of the night.

It was also the first thing he encountered upon waking the next morning. Except the silkiness gliding across his skin was very real and very much attached to an incredible body straddling him on his side of the bed.

His hands began to explore her, finding the cool glide of a soft material gathered at her waist. When he opened his eyes, his view instantly focused on her breasts cupped in vibrant purple lace, the delicate straps barely able to contain the heaving fullness stretching against the bodice. Transfixed, his gaze lowered to where the lace transitioned into a silky flow of magenta wickedness that rippled against her dark skin. It stopped just short of her panties: bright pink and black, tiger print maybe? His eyes narrowed in on the silver trim with an enticing little bow at the center.

The unbridled desire pumping through him caused his throat to dry up and his brain to almost completely shut down to only the most basic of functions. This image of her was wild and powerful, unconventionally feminine but a perfect reflection of her uniqueness. Her raw magnificence intimidated him but it also challenged him to prove worthy of such a goddess.

As his lust-addled brain worked out the treasure within his grasp, Michonne manipulated her hands underneath his shirt and ground against him. Daryl matched her movements without missing a beat, operating only on instinct.

"How's this for a wake up call?" she purred.

Not expecting a verbal response, she bent over to capture his lips, almost spilling out of her sexy bustier. His hands savored the sheer material before sampling the silkiness of her panties that only marginally covered her if his wandering hands were accurate. He wasted no time getting into the mood of things. He gnawed aggressively at her skin as he kissed along her neck and chest. The strap of her camisole found its way in between his teeth before he stripped it off her shoulder, pulling the other one down too with his fingers.

Above him, she gasped with each brush of his tongue along her skin. But she wasn't so distracted that she couldn't play with him a bit.

"I thought you liked my outfit? Why in such a rush to get me out of it?"

Her amusement only fueled his enchantment with her. Instead of responding, he cupped one of her breasts still encased in its lace packaging, groping her through the patterned covering. His other hand bunched around the loose material at her waist to clutch at her back and push her into him. He'd been waiting forever to get his hands on her and he didn't want any more delays in having his fill.

A few weeks ago, he'd worried over whether he could satisfy her—he'd had lovers but he wouldn't call himself especially experienced. The need to please her was important; embarrassing himself seemed like a possibility given how long it had been since he'd slept with someone. However, as the weeks stacked up and his opportunities kept diminishing, his insecurities were bypassed by stark lust. He still wanted to make the sex good for her but he would work his strengths until it happened instead of fretting over the details.

Succeeding in exposing her top half, Daryl maneuvered to now grasp both her breasts, moaning into her kiss at the satisfaction of the weight in his hands. He teased her and relished the intake of breath his attention caused. When he replaced his hands with his mouth, it was met with her vocal approval, especially when he delivered a gentle pinch to one of her nipples with the scrape of his teeth. Meanwhile, she had been working his shirt upwards, becoming more and more distracted by how he handled her. And after submitting for those few moments, her impatience had her ripping the shirt over his head.

Daryl was more than willing to comply as the movement brought him flush against her, skin to skin. Similarly impatient, he lifted her top to slide it from her body, letting his fingers trace her as he went. He threw it soundlessly across the room. She was left in her brightly printed panties, barely there and damp from her desire for him.

He forced himself to back off, gripping her thighs to cease her movements. She felt entirely too good and he wanted this encounter to last as long as possible. Understanding his intentions, she retreated as well, clawing her fingers up and down his body.

"You know how to get a man's attention," he murmured in her ear, taking some time to calm himself down.

"I'm just getting started."

She bent down to suck at his neck, smiling into him as he gripped her shoulder to encourage her to continue. She was sure to leave a mark and that inexplicably aroused him. Normally, he hated when women resorted to that kind of high school bullshit. But with Michonne it was more like a badge of honor for engaging such a force of nature. Trailing from his neck to his shoulder, she slid her fingers along the waistband of his pants, telegraphing the direction of her hunt. She didn't attempt to do more than tease him while her tongue took on a project of its own. She brushed her lips across his chest, kissing across his scars and taking his nipple in her mouth as he'd done her. When she bit him, applying a bit more sting than he expected, he gasped and clutched her head to prolong the ache of it. The distraction gave her the opportunity to reach in between them and take him in hand beneath his pants.

Daryl hadn't been prepared for that either and he pressed his eyes shut, seeing flashes of light at the pleasure exploding around him. The pressure of her hand glided along him and a tightness was building up in the pit of his stomach. He was rapidly losing control as his reactions took longer to register and every thought was focused on how quickly she was about to make him lose it.

He couldn't have that so early in the game. The thought was enough to get himself together but he had to act quickly.

Pulling her hand from him, he used the surprise movement to flip her backwards onto the bed. She let out a cute little yelp at that which slowly turned into a glare as he smirked down at her, shifting so she could uncurl her legs from underneath her. Not worrying about being gentle, he stretched along her body, still restraining her hand above her head while he slipped his fingers beneath her panties. If she was gonna play dirty, then he'd give as good as he got.

His reward was an honest-to-god whimper from this strong, beautiful creature underneath him. Just the sound of her voice made him grow even harder at her hip.

He tormented her for a while, stroking her and kneading into her breast as he nipped at her ear and placed open-mouthed kisses along her neck. He felt completely justified in exacting retaliation for her earlier attempts to undo him. After he withdrew his hand, he ripped the sliver of material off of her; she snapped at his waistband and he got rid of his pants too as he hovered over her.

Settling on top of her body, he returned to feeding on her lips and allowed himself to drown in the unadulterated bliss of his woman.

Using his distraction as leverage, Michonne flipped him over so that she was once again on top. Her expression as she considered him below her was predatory and the sexiest damn thing he'd ever seen. He didn't mind getting caught by her in the least. Grinding herself against him again, so slick and inviting, she bit her lip at the sensation.

"Is this what you want, Daryl?"

She was toying with him, torturing him with her games. Of course, he wanted her. He desired nothing more than to be surrounded by her right now, lost to everything but pushing himself into her. Closing his eyes, he willed his hormones to hold off and let him enjoy this.

He nodded at her, savoring her dominance over him. He shifted against her this time, letting her feel his hardness brushing up against her wet center. Voice strained from maintaining tight control, he ground out, "You gon' play twenty fuckin' questions all mornin' or you gon' show me what ya got?"

Laughing at the jab, she secured their agreed upon protection, flashing him a sweet smile as she did so. It was a wicked and completely erotic contrast. Then he watched that sweetness turn into satisfaction as she lowered herself onto him.

It was an expression hot enough to make a lesser man surrender right then and there.

But Daryl was a warrior, a soldier on a mission to conquer her before she got the best of him. He let her take the lead, enjoying the way she squeezed him and clawed at his body to find better leverage for her undulations. He focused on the line of her neck as she threw her head back in passion; the rhythmic movement of her breasts in time with their thrusts was hypnotizing enough to ensure his patience. She wasn't going to last long at this pace and that prospect delighted him. He'd yearned for this, hoped for this, burned for this in ways she couldn't imagine given how preoccupied she'd been these past few weeks. It was only fitting that he win the first round.

When he sensed that she'd given herself over to the pleasure of their lovemaking, he turned the tide on her again. He gripped her hip and back to coax her to the head of the bed once more. The new position had him pushing into her deeper than either expected and he stilled his stroke so he could center himself above her. She'd felt amazing before yet there would always be more to her; lurking beyond would be something better just waiting for him to earn it.

After that momentary lapse, his thrusts became all instinct and momentum; her legs wrapped around him, surrounding him with her presence. He buried his face into her, growling against her skin and so sure that he was pleasing her. Their limbs constantly tangled as her cries grew louder and his answering grunts turned more uninhibited. The tension hovered between them, increasing in tempo as it knotted and unraveled again and again. The throbbing ache of this sensual exchange sated something he hadn't known existed before she'd come into his life.

Finally, her orgasm ripped through her body, pushing magnificent echoes of fulfillment and unbridled delight from her throat. It was maddening how tightly she clenched him as she rode out her pleasure; it lingered for ten seconds, then thirty and beyond that he stopped counting and simply enjoyed it. Throughout, she ran her leg along his thigh before resting it against his backside, encouraging him to keep pushing into her. Nothing could have stopped him from complying.

Having watched her come apart beneath him, Daryl allowed himself to submit to her. She held him so close coming off her high and whispered how much he satisfied her, confessed how she'd often wished for him to please her just as he was doing. As he yielded to his release, she revealed that she never wanted him to stop making love to her.

"I'm yours, Daryl. Never let me go," she pleaded, breathy and vulnerable.

Although he was beyond coherent communication, he wanted to promise her everything. He needed to make her understand that he was hers too, that he'd hold on as long as she did. Instead, he showered her face and neck with kisses and caresses.

Rolling off of her, he had trouble catching his breath. She had worked him hard—both physically and emotionally—and he wasn't used to that kind of activity. A glance in her direction had him admiring the flushed, sweaty sheen of her naked body. Her chest was heaving with exertion and she shifted on the bed as her thighs squeezed together, savoring the reverberations of their completion. It was a damn satisfying sight. If he weren't so spent, he'd check to see whether he'd made her toes curl.

He'd turned her out too and they both knew it.

Dawn had come and gone but, after adequate recovery, they readjusted themselves and got back under the covers. They soon discovered that neither was much for cuddling, however, they did like a bit of contact so she flipped over onto her stomach and slung an arm across his chest as she lay beside him. He didn't have the chance to wonder what she was thinking as he immediately fell back to sleep.

When he woke again, it was to a much less pleasant sensation—bright sunlight in his eyes and a rumpled, empty bed. He sat up and stretched, a gratifying accounting of the morning's exertions. Finding his pants but foregoing his shirt, he set off to look for his woman. Round two didn't seem like too much to ask for on a lazy Saturday morning.

He found her in the kitchen, standing at the counter chopping at something he couldn't see. A mug of coffee stood within reach and there were pans on the stove sizzling with activity, bacon and potatoes going by his nose.

Hearing his footsteps, she offered him a lazy grin over her shoulder. The short robe hung off her body, although this time it was untied and he could discern its olive green hue.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Got my woman barefoot in the kitchen cookin' me up some grub."

Michonne snorted at that and turned around. "Excuse me?" Daryl stopped in his tracks.

Underneath her dark robe, she'd once more donned that bright purple camisole with those scandalous pink and black panties. One hand rested on her hip propped to the side while the other grasped a long bread knife as if she knew exactly how to wield it to its most deadly effect. The expression on her face carried a tinge of genuine annoyance, amusement and the sexiest hint of danger. The entire package threatened to bring him to his knees.

Thankfully, his reaction to her turned her outrage into satisfaction. "You wanna try that again?" she suggested with a steady calm, a bit of steel to her voice for good measure.

He stepped up to her and dropped a kiss to the top of her head as he embraced her.

"Looks good, babe. Can I give you a hand?" Over her shoulder, he saw she was slicing some bread on the cutting board, probably for french toast which was his favorite.

She pulled him down for a deep kiss. "Mmm. Much better. Has your mood improved this morning?"

"You have no idea. Had me an amazin' wake up call."

"You don't say." He glanced down to take in the image of her once more.

"What?" she asked as he continued to stare at her.

Daryl shook his head. "It's nothin'. Just can't believe how hot you look in that outfit, holdin' that knife."

"Relax. I'm not gonna cut your head off for making a sexist but ultimately forgivable joke at my expense." She put the knife back on the cutting board and moved towards the stove to poke at one of the pans. "And I'm glad you like the outfit. I didn't have a matching robe but I wasn't expecting to wear it for too long," she grinned.

"Naw, it works," he said, licking his lips as he looked her up and down. He followed her to the stove and her grin turned into a scowl at his attempt to steal a piece of bacon.

They ended up working on breakfast together, Daryl taking over supervision of the potatos and Michonne getting the batter ready for the French Toast. They mostly maneuvered around each other without speaking, an occasional request and an appreciative kiss in thanks their only interaction. They ate in similar fashion, making eyes at each other when they weren't perusing the newspaper. Daryl insisted on cleaning up.

"So what we gon' do today?" he asked as he rejoined her at the table. She was still nursing her coffee.

Taking a sip, she shrugged. "I don't know. I thought we'd stay in bed and have sex all day but if you've got other ideas, I'm all ears." Daryl's eyes narrowed at her forwardness as if he didn't believe her. Michonne simply blinked at him and then turned back to the newspaper.

Before she could stop him, he lifted her from the chair to steer them back to her bedroom. That was a plan he could definitely get behind.

TBC …


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Michonne picked up another stack of papers and leafed through to search for the case she wanted to cite. She was almost done writing this sentencing memo and the last few details were more tedious than difficult. Only a few more points remained and then she could put it all aside and return to her regularly scheduled weekend.

The rain had been pouring down all day so she and the girls were stuck indoors. The morning had her scrambling to find things for them to do so they didn't develop cabin fever. Fortunately for all of them, Daryl had braved the storm to come keep them company.

She glanced over to the other side of the room where he was sitting at the girl's play area helping them with some impromptu arts and crafts project. Ursula was buzzing about, insisting on using every marker and crayon in her arsenal and Octavia was intently scribbling at something with a scowl of determination on her face. More than a few whines had reached her work station at the dining room table and she figured it would be best to go give Daryl a hand before the inevitable meltdown. Octavia hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and Ursula seemed to be compensating for whatever energy her sister wasn't using at the moment.

Returning to her work, she flipped through her research so she could quickly put the finishing touches on her motion.

Not five minutes later, a familiar strained voice cut across the room as Octavia argued with her sister over her favorite skinny markers.

"Ursula, quit it and use your own. I need those!"

"Not yours, Tavi," Ursula said quite matter-of-factly for a three year old. She grabbed for the markers anyway. Octavia snatched them back and moved them to her side of the table.

Daryl pointed his weary but patient eyes at Octavia and tried to calm her. "How 'bout you share with your sister, Big Bit. She can use the yellow one and you can keep what she's not usin'." Then he turned to Ursula. "And Lil Bit, you ask your sister real nice if she's usin' one 'a them markers you want 'fore you go and take it from her." Ursula nodded but the crabby older girl frowned.

"I don't want her using none of my stuff. She messes them up 'cause she doesn't do it right."

Daryl smiled. "Well, you probably used to mess 'em up too. Don't mean you can't share." His unwillingness to take her side only made her madder.

"You don't know that! And you're mean and only want Ursula to have stuff!" She then grabbed the markers and threw the handful down on the table, sending them skittering across the surface. At that point, Michonne realized she had to intervene.

"Octavia. No, ma'am. You get over here right this second." The older girl pouted and climbed down from her chair to shuffle towards Michonne. Poor Daryl looked completely stricken by her behavior. He'd seen tantrums from the both of them but never directed at him. Yet if he wanted to be a more prevalent part of their family, he'd have to get used to the fact that kids sometimes lashed out.

When Octavia finally stood by her chair, she stared down at her daughter in "stern mommy" mode. She did sympathize with Octavia; the girl was tired and cranky and didn't quite understand why. But that didn't mean she couldn't be taught how to control her behavior.

"What was that all about? You know you don't talk back to adults and you certainly don't throw things at anyone, especially your sister."

"I didn't throw anything, I just pushed it over there," she whined. "And Daryl's being mean to me and laughed at me. He doesn't like me, he only likes Ursula."

It was true that Ursula favored Daryl more than Octavia did; Octavia was so much more Michonne's shadow that she usually wasn't concerned about Ursula's attention-grabbing ways. Daryl didn't play into it yet she could see it being something that a young child wouldn't understand.

Cutting her eyes to Daryl, she could tell that he'd heard the exchange; Octavia certainly wasn't being quiet about her complaints.

"Now you know that's not true. Daryl is your friend too. He asked you to share, just like I would have done and you got mad at him because you're tired and grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy!" Michonne cocked her head to the side with what the little one would have recognized as sarcasm if she'd been older. "He gave Urs my markers even though they're mine not hers and the other day he wouldn't let me watch my show and let Urs watch her show."

"You keep talking back to me and it'll be straight to bed after dinner. Who let you stay up an extra half hour last week? And who always gives you his last bite of ice cream." Octavia remained quiet knowing she was being corrected and didn't have a counter ready in her six year old mind. "And who got you that Wonder Woman cup you cried for last month?"

Now Octavia really didn't have anything to say since she loved that cup. It was sitting on the table right now.

"I tell you what. I won't put you in time-out but you have to sit here with me and do your picture. And you can think about how you're going to apologize to your sister and Daryl." She stuck her lip out but climbed up in the chair next to her without going back to get her artwork. Instead, she put her head down on her arms and watched Michonne return to her work. Octavia was mostly a curious, well-behaved little introvert but sometimes she needed to stew.

As she typed, she saw Octavia try to peek over her shoulder a couple of times to see what Daryl and Ursula were doing. "Stop it, Tavi. It'll only frustrate you more." About ten minutes later, she finished up her memo and rose to check on the other two, stroking Octavia's head lovingly as she went. She'd calmed down some but was still pretty sullen.

Ursula had continued to color her picture telling Daryl what parts she wanted him to do. They weren't keeping up a playful chatter like usual and she could read the stress in Daryl's eyes.

"I know what you're thinking, Daryl, and cut it out." He had his moments of being sensitive just like anyone else. While Michonne wasn't annoyed and she completely understood and sympathized with his reasons, it did feel a bit like she was juggling three children's emotions right now. "Why don't you go in the back and relax for a while. I'm done with work so I can supervise these two. Thank you for taking the lead while I got some stuff done."

Daryl put his arm around her waist seeking her comfort. "I don't mind spendin' time with them. I just don't want Octavia to be mad at me."

Michonne wrapped herself around his neck and kissed the top of his head. "She'll get over it. You're not always going to be the good guy. And you're not just her playmate, you're an adult that she needs to learn to mind." The latter lesson might prove a bit harder to teach, especially after Daryl insisted they drop the "Mr." from his name. And because of how wonderful he behaved with them, her daughters tended to think him more their friend than hers.

He nodded but still looked upset about the situation.

She hated to kick him while he was down but there was another issue that she should probably bring up. "I think this is also a good time to talk about letting His Highness know about us."

Daryl was silent but not tense which was a good sign. "I kinda figured it was comin'." He sat back in his chair. "How's it supposed to go?"

Sighing, Michonne leaned into his side. "Well, with Stacy, I took the initiative because I knew James doesn't do anything unpleasant unless he's pushed. But after the last time you came up, I don't see him saying much on the matter without my cue. He's always been a little scared of me, more so since I became his ex." The truth of that put a smile on her face.

A smirk crossed Daryl's lips as well. "I don't see too many folks that aint scared of ya, especially if they know what's good for 'em." His fingers began lazily stroking her hip. "I aint scared a ya though. I kinda like that side to ya."

When he looked up at her with a boyish grin, she only shook her head at him. "You would."

While they'd been talking, Ursula had snuck over to Octavia to bring her the picture she'd been working on and the markers they'd fought over. Then she climbed up into the chair next to her and went back to coloring, offering her sister Daryl's part of the picture. Octavia joined in and they chatted back and forth quietly.

"You see that? They have their moments where they can't be bothered to get along but then you separate them and it's like torture." His eyes softened at the sight of them but Michonne could tell that his earlier conflict with Octavia lingered.

"Anyway, it'll be good to get things out in the open with James. I know you're not over here all the time but you have no idea what the girls pick up on and relay back to their father. That's how I knew that Stacy was a big deal—the girls kept mentioning her." She laughed at that. "Although mostly it was Octavia telling me how annoying Stacy is in her own diplomatic way. I kind of felt bad for her because that little one wasn't going to like anyone James brought home that wasn't me." Octavia's comments hadn't even been complaints really, just irritations that the woman didn't do things like Michonne did.

This line of conversation caused Daryl to frown. "Ya think they tell him stuff 'bout me?" Given his disagreement with Octavia, she could see him fretting about her inadvertently giving James a bad impression of him.

Michonne rubbed his arm to sooth him. "I know they are because they adore you. It's probably the usual play stuff about what you did together and showing off their pictures and Wonder Woman cups, that kind of thing." She ruffled his hair a bit. "You are still such a sucker." His frown receded as he smiled at their old joke. At this point in motherhood, Michonne was pretty immune to her children's desperate pleas for toys and such but the girls had found a new mark in Daryl who was a pile of goo when they pulled out their sad faces and yearning kiddie eyes.

"Hey, that cup was a good find," he defended.

"Yes, it was. And she loves it." She loosened her hold on him and leaned over to collect some of the markers and coloring pencils. "Don't worry, James is a jerk but he's also fair. He realizes the difference between a real parenting issue and a grumpy temper tantrum. And I hate to break it to you but you're going to have to get used to it and learn the difference too."

Daryl sighed, letting his hand slip from her waist. "I know." He watched her pick up after them and she could tell he was working up to saying something. "It's just that before with that other girl I was with? I was around for the kid and spent time with him but it's not like I had much say 'bout stuff. And a lot 'a the time I had my hands so full keepin' her in line that I wadn't thinkin' 'bout proper parentin' or whatever."

Turning around, she gave him her full attention. This was turning into a serious conversation. She waited until he met her gaze. "I have no doubt in my mind that you were good to that child. And we're going to navigate all of this together. I'll be with you at every step."

He took her hand and stroked her fingers. "You're a great mom. You know that?"

That admission served as one of the nicest, most romantic things he could have said to her. "Thank you." She leaned down to peck him on the lips. "I want the best for my kids and that includes you being in our lives. I'll mention the issue to James and then we can talk to him together or you can talk to him man-to-man or whatever," she said rolling her eyes. "Then when the time is right and we both feel comfortable with it, we'll talk to Tavi and Urs too." She didn't want to put too much pressure on him, after all. Even though he spent time at the house and they took the girls out to the country where he lived as often as they could, they still led pretty separate lives, going about their business as before. The only difference is that he'd spend the occasional weeknight or weekend with her.

Daryl nodded. He joined her in organizing the crafts table but she stopped him. "I was serious before, Daryl. Go take it easy and I'll keep an eye on them. Watch some baseball or NASCAR or whatever it is you boys do in your spare time."

"Now you're talkin'. Baseball and NASCAR on a Saturday afternoon are basic American rights."

Pretending to ponder the concept, Michonne said, "I don't think I learned about those Constitutional amendments in law school."

"So much for all that fancy book-learnin' then," he quipped. Michonne chuckled at that. Dumping the crayons back in their tray, he placed his hand at the small of her back. "You sure you're good? Maybe I should spent some time with Big Bit so she don't think I'm only here for Urs."

Michonne shook her head. "I know you'll worry anyway but don't. She's really tired and lashing out. It's hard not to take it to heart but that was Tavi's frustration and sleep deprivation talking. Just give her some time to unwind. And maybe a nap," she added with a grin.

He squeezed her waist and pulled away. En route to the kitchen, Daryl stopped at the table to give each of the girls a kiss on the top of the head. Octavia didn't say anything but her little doe eyes indicated that she felt bad for hurting Daryl's feelings.

His tension seemed to have receded but not completely and Michonne frowned at that. Although he hadn't mentioned anything to her, he'd been really tired and anxious lately and it didn't have to do with this business about the girls and James. She figured he'd confide in her when he felt comfortable yet it was stressful to see him so restless and not able to help. At least she could encourage him to take some time for himself. She heard him pour something to drink and then move out into the patio room to watch TV where he wouldn't disturb them.

Michonne went back to clearing the table and decided to get a few other odds and ends taken care of for work since the girls were playing contently at the dining room table. When she finished those tasks, she took the girls back over to their play area and broke out the glitter and that served to lift both of their spirits. Because of the mess, glitter was a very special occasion crafting tool. Octavia used the glitter to fill in her picture of a butterfly—she was quite artistic and creative Michonne was learning. Ursula just made all kinds of glitter bombs, more fun in the application than actually a coherent work of art.

When they'd finished the pictures to their satisfaction, Octavia begged to go show Daryl.

"Daryl is resting, honey, why don't we show him at dinner?"

Octavia huffed. "He won't mind 'cause it's to say I'm sorry for yelling at him and not being nice." Her little lip quivered a bit. "He's gonna be mad at me if I don't say sorry."

Michonne softened at that. "Baby, Daryl's not mad at you. Not at all. He knows you're sleepy. But it made him sad when you yelled at him while he was playing nicely with the both of you. He's your friend and Ursula's friend so you have to share. And I want you to remember that even though Daryl likes to play, he's also a grown up and when he tells you to do something, you listen to him the same way you listen to me or Daddy or Stacy. You mind him just like Ashley's mom or Ms. Linda and the other teachers at school."

She sniffled but held back any tears since she realized the worst of her punishment had passed. "Okay, Mama," she said, nodding. "I made this picture for him and it's purple and everything so he'll like it. I want him to see it."

"Please," Ursula pleaded, needing no reason to go sidle up to Daryl.

Maybe she wasn't as immune to their kiddie mind tricks as she thought. "Okay but you show him and then leave him alone and let him be." They clamored off their chairs and grabbed their pictures. "And please be careful. I don't want glitter all over the house." Knowing that was impossible anyway, she saw that they at least pretended to gingerly carry their creations around the corner. She shook her head and smiled.

Michonne grabbed the mini-vac and cleaned up all the stray glitter and put the markers and papers and other supplies back where they belonged. Then she went over to her work station across the room and stored her computer and case files into her big briefcase so she could just load it into the car on Monday morning. Looking around, she noticed the girls hadn't come back and frowned. She hoped they weren't out there bothering Daryl when she told them to leave him alone.

Striding through the kitchen, she found all three on the couch in the back and her heart melted at the picture of them together.

Daryl was out cold. His feet were stretched out on the ottoman and his head lolled to the side on the back of the couch. Octavia was under one arm, cuddled into him and fast asleep with the remote in her hand. Ursula had just set his tall glass of lemonade back on the table, taking a sip while he was dozing, the little sneak. She crawled up on the couch on the other side of him and lay her head in his lap while she watched whatever was on the TV. The drowsiness in her movements told Michonne that she'd be knocked out before too much longer as well.

The two pictures lay on the coffee table, neat and orderly as the rain continued to pour down outside and drizzle against the windows.

Michonne leaned against the doorframe and took it all in. It was amazing that she'd found someone who was so great with her kids and who they adored in return. That he ended up being so great for her was something for which to be thankful.

A knock at the front of the house diverted her attention. It was a strange sound. It might have been coming from the front door but why would anyone knock instead of using the doorbell? If she were upstairs, she'd likely not even have heard it—she had barely heard it just now. She walked to her entryway and peeked out of the peephole. What she saw made her jaw drop and her heart fill with dread.

Opening the door, a disheveled and red-eyed Andrea practically unfolded into her house. She looked like she'd aged a decade since they'd encountered each other at Maggie's wedding.

Michonne dragged her inside and closed the door. "Andrea? What is going on?"

She'd thought about Andrea from time to time over the last few months. Andrea had become a good friend and it had hurt to grow apart from her over a man. Sometimes Michonne second guessed herself and considered extending the olive branch but she just couldn't bring herself to do it if Phillip was still in the picture. Not after what he had done to her. Now it looked like circumstances were going to force the issue.

"Michonne, I'm so sorry. I didn't know who else to talk to. It's Phillip." She stared at Michonne, clearly shell-shocked. "You were right about him."

"What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?" Whatever had happened with Andrea, she never wished anything bad on her, despite fearing that this would come to pass. Resorting to violence was something she definitely wouldn't put past him.

"No, nothing like that." Andrea appeared as if she would topple over any minute so Michonne led her to the living room area and made her take a seat on the couch. She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water. "I'm so sorry to barge in. This is hard for me," she started. "Phillip isn't the man I thought he was and I see that now."

Taking a seat next to her, Michonne kept her expression neutral. She wasn't going to fall into the supportive friend role until she heard what all this drama was about.

"Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Over the next half hour, Andrea unfolded a story that involved a surprising level of bad behavior, even beyond her expectations.

Apparently, the more time Andrea had spent with Phillip, the more he confided in her until finally he began pressuring her to leave her job and work for his in-house counsel team. Andrea had seriously considered it so she started doing her own due diligence—but she hadn't let Phillip in on that.

What she'd uncovered was unsettling.

It turned out that his company, Woodbury Inc., had been investigated numerous times and not just for the discrimination claims her law firm had dealt with. The allegations included extortion, price-fixing, copyright infringement, even kidnapping.

Also, she knew he'd been married before and had a daughter, both of whom were killed in a car accident well before they met. Phillip had received a huge settlement afterwards. What she didn't know was that the driver, who'd plowed into his wife due to a mechanical failure on her car, had mysteriously disappeared nine months after the accident. The woman had never been found and many assumed she'd taken her own life out of guilt for the lives lost in the accident. However, another rumor had Phillip somehow involved in the disappearance. The woman had displayed no signs of depression or odd behavior beforehand—she'd had children and a wife of her own Although the woman had felt terrible about the accident, it hadn't been her fault. And witnesses alleged that she'd met with Phillip a week before her disappearance.

All this information came to light through a private investigator Andrea hired simply to do some background on the company and Phillip. She'd only meant for the information to help her make a better decision about his job offer. Yet when Phillip found out about it, he'd flown off the handle, screaming at her and accusing her of disloyalty and lying to him and threatening to get her fired from her firm. Even his assistant Milton hadn't been able to reign him in, not that he was wild about the company's secrets getting unearthed either. But his reaction let her know that this wasn't the first time he'd seen a dark side to his boss.

Phillip had eventually calmed down and tried to apologize, playing the grieving family-man card but the damage was done.

Michonne listened to all this without too much judgment. It was worse than she'd imagined but not by much.

"I know you warned me about him Mich'. It's just that I was so caught up in being a part of something with him. You know how unhappy I am at the firm. You thrive on trial work and all the chaos and craziness of it but I hate it. I want something stable and meaningful and without all that madness. He made me believe that I could have a better life than that. I've gotten to know him and the people he works with and they're mostly good people at the company, even if Phillip goes to far."

Although Michonne genuinely understood Andrea's justifications, accepting them would be a whole other obstacle.

"And I'm not trying to be alarmist but he really dislikes you, probably because you saw right through his bullshit from the beginning." Andrea's eyes lit up with wry amusement. "By the way, that drink you tossed in his eye gave him a nasty infection. It's bothered him ever since. He even has to wear an eye-patch when it gets really bad." She shook her head and looked away. "I always wondered why he never specifically mentioned what happened at the fundraiser, though. I guess it's because he knew he'd have been found out for the maniac that he is. He brought your name up when we fought, accusing you of putting me up to it. Of course, it didn't make any sense given that we hadn't talked in months."

Nodding, Michonne's lips tightened in anger thinking of that night at the party, his hands all over her body and his lips pressed against her skin with a reptilian coldness. "He would have found himself in a world of trouble taking me on. He had to have known that there are cameras all over places like that, especially where we were by the bathrooms and admin offices. He definitely would have been exposed." She sighed. "And you should have believed that I wouldn't exaggerate a man putting his hands on me like that. I didn't wish any of this on you but I know men like him. Nothing good comes from trusting someone like that."

"I know," Andrea said, tears welling in her eyes. "Michonne, there's nothing I can say to express how sorry I am. I feel like shit about it."

Michonne took her hand. "And I'm sorry that you've had to go through this alone." The situation was complicated but this was a start to fixing things between them. Letting go, her brow furrowed thinking of all the implications to Andrea's falling out with Phillip. "When did this big blowout with Phillip happen?"

"Last night. He's been calling me ever since and the last time we talked he got so cold. Told me that if I kept digging into his affairs again, not to bother coming back around. It scared the hell out of me. Now that I know what he's capable of, I just want out. And I feel bad for all those people who work for him so how can I simply forget about what I've discovered?"

"Well, you've got some things to think about and some hard decisions to make. But you don't have to make them today. Give yourself some time to settle down and properly digest this. Don't do anything until you've cleared your head."

Andrea took a long drag from her water. "You're right of course. I'm used to doing something when I see the bad stuff in the world and it's hard for me not to go on the attack. I don't want anyone to suffer, not if I can try and do the right thing."

That was Andrea. A fighter to the end, even if she wasn't always clear on what she was fighting for.

Michonne offered her a weak smile and stroked her arm in support. She wasn't thrilled to add this level of drama into her life and fully trusting Andrea again could prove difficult. But her friend was genuinely upset and a truly despicable man had caused it. Michonne refused to turn her back on that and would do what she could to help.

"Do you want some tea? I have that spicy blend that you like so much. And then maybe we can talk options."

For the first time since she arrived, her old friend smiled. "I'd like that."

TBC …


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Daryl stirred from where he slept on the couch and immediately felt the weight of two suspiciously child-sized critters up under him.

Opening his eyes, he found Octavia fast asleep underneath his arm. That particular invasion he remembered. She'd come in with those sad little eyes, telling him that she was sorry for not playing nice. Her peace offering was a picture of a purple butterfly—because purple is his favorite color she'd told him.

He'd never even been mad at her but the thoughtfulness turned him into that pile of goo Michonne was always making fun of him about.

Daryl insisted she and her sister put their glitter-covered creations on the table so as not to mess up the couch and then both of them climbed up to tell him about how they made their pictures, Ursula doing the majority of the talking. Octavia was mostly quiet but also uncharacteristically cuddly with him—she generally opted to ask him questions and chat and let Ursula be the one to climb all over him. Recalling her earlier complaints, he decided to forego his baseball game and let Tavi choose which show she wanted to watch.

Ursula was the wildcard since the last thing he remembered after she had shown him her own glitter covered artwork was the little one crawling around on the couch begging for some of his lemonade. But now she was curled up in his lap also fast asleep.

Michonne was nowhere in sight, maybe still working or getting a head start on dinner. Her company would have made the entire scene perfection.

He took a moment to savor the girls' presence. Today had been a good example of how it wouldn't always be sunshine and rainbows but this part of the deal made it worth the trouble. It was a step towards him truly being a part of the pack.

The plan hadn't been for him to come over today since he'd worked late the night before and had more to finish up earlier this morning. He'd taken care of business in good time, though. Checking in with Michonne, he found her more stressed than normal trying to keep the girls occupied during the rainy Saturday while also attempting to research some complicated thing for work. She mentioned that Octavia had been up half the night with her allergies and was in a foul mood. So he'd decided to drop by and lend a hand.

Even in the tough times, being with his girls always improved his day.

And lately, there had been a lot of things going on to bring him down. His job was going well but he had other stuff on his mind that he realized he needed to talk over with Michonne. Maybe he'd do it tomorrow. He didn't want to ruin the calm after her busy morning and Octavia's meltdown.

Looking at his watch, he noticed that he hadn't been dozing for too long, just a catnap. The girls would probably sleep for a bit longer and he wondered if he should get a snack ready for them. He'd bet a dollar Ursula had already been in his lemonade after all the begging she'd done. Michonne wouldn't want her to have any more since all that sugar coursing through her system meant a bad bedtime for everyone involved.

He carefully leaned Octavia into the corner of the couch and then slowly slid from underneath Ursula, monitoring that the two didn't wake up. Stretching, he went in search of Michonne.

He heard her low voice coming from the living room and he wondered if she was on the phone. He'd have to get on her if it was for work—she'd sassed him about relaxing and she needed to do the same. Walking through the kitchen, he noted the dining room table was clear and her things put away which was a good sign. It looked like she had called it a day on that front. If that was the case, now they could focus on what they would do for dinner. He was thinking maybe they could treat themselves to pizza instead of trying to cook something. And if they gave the girls a snack now, maybe they could even push that to 6 or 7 o'clock.

Walking into the living room area he looked around for Michonne. "Hey, babe, I'm 'a get a snack ready for the girls since supper—"

Daryl stopped in his tracks over the scene in front of him: Michonne and Andrea sitting side by side on the couch. Andrea similarly wore a shocked expression at watching him stroll out of Michonne's kitchen.

Anger rose in Daryl at seeing her, the woman who'd abandoned Michonne after that bastard boyfriend of hers pawed her in a dark hallway. When he recovered, his expression turned ice cold. Until she explained herself and convinced him she wasn't a threat, he was for damn sure gonna protect his girls.

"What's she doin' here?" he directed at Michonne without taking his eyes off of Andrea. His words were terse and unfriendly. Michonne had obviously let the woman in. And she didn't look particularly tense or bothered by Andrea's presence, not that she seemed pleased either.

"Me?" Andrea exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing here? Clearly, I'm out of the loop."

"Hell yeah, you're outta the loop. And I aint gon' ask a second time. "

Turning back to Michonne, Andrea frowned. "I guess I wouldn't know what's been going on with you, especially something like this," she said pointing at him.

That only made him angrier, her talking about him like _he_ was the intruder rather than answering his damn question.

He crossed his arms. "Might wanna spend more time mindin' your own affairs and less time worryin' 'bout Michonne's."

Andrea, hating to be backed into a corner, straightened and took on an indignant air.

"Who the hell are you to tell me to mind my own business? You might want to ease your guard dog routine. I didn't break in and I'm not here to start trouble."

"Can ya say the same for your boyfriend? Folks like you don't never mean to make trouble but it ends up findin' ya anyway." Daryl thought there was a time and place for all that second chances, Kumbaya shit. Hell, he'd been in and out of trouble his whole life. But that didn't mean she got a free pass for being a shitty friend and a clueless bitch to Michonne the last time she'd seen her.

Andrea scoffed. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough to watch my back. And hers," motioning to Michonne. Daryl shook his head, done with talking to this woman. "Michonne?"

She'd been looking back and forth between them not willing to intervene. They were grown-ups after all and she wasn't their mom. A moment of panic arose and he wondered if she'd take Andrea's side in all of this. Michonne had known her longer and she and Andrea weren't exactly acting like enemies right now.

Turning to Andrea, Michonne said, "Maybe you should take a rain check on that tea."

Andrea pursed her lips no doubt biting back a smart comment. From what Daryl could tell, though, she seemed pretty contrite around Michonne and thought better of pushing her luck. She stood and grabbed her purse. "Yeah. Rain check. I'll call you sometime this week and we'll talk?"

Following Andrea to the door, Michonne agreed. "Let's have lunch on Tuesday. It's my office day and I should be finished with my meetings by noon."

"Sounds good. And thanks for listening and for … for everything." Glancing around Michonne, she glared and gave Daryl one last once-over. "Daryl," she said in farewell.

He didn't bother to respond.

Instead he narrowed in on Michonne after she closed the door. "What the fuck," he whispered, furious.

He hadn't heard a thing about the two women reconciling and, by how upset Andrea appeared, he could imagine what drama she'd found herself in. He didn't need more than one guess to figure out who it involved—and to want Michonne as far away from that as possible.

"Do you even have to ask?" she replied, taking his anger in stride. "She finally figured out that her boyfriend's a psychopath." Michonne looked through the kitchen entryway to see that both girls were sleeping soundly in the other room, leaving them to talk freely.

"Even more reason to steer clear 'a her and her bullshit."

Michonne was already shaking her head. "No, what's going on with her sounds serious. I'm not going to stick my head in the sand like she did. If there's a real problem, I want to help even if I'm still pissed at her."

Daryl quickly realized that there was no sense fighting that impulse in Michonne, always the do-gooder through and through. She did what needed doing. It's one of the things he liked about her and now he was seeing a whole other side to that trait. It was frustrating.

"I aint sayin' you need to throw her to the wolves. I just hope you aint lookin' to get involved and shit."

"We'll see," she said, grabbing a used glass and passing by him to head into the kitchen.

Daryl's shoulders tightened. He didn't like the sense that he'd been dismissed, that she'd shut down discussion without really considering his problems with the situation; like she didn't care that he had thoughts and opinions that he'd like to be heard on. He followed her and kept his voice low so as not to disturb the girls.

"Don't sound like you're hearin' me on this, Michonne. I don't want you near this shit. That prick tried to hurt you, bold-like and in public, didn't think nothin' of it. He didn't even know me and got in my face. He got in Rick's face too, ready to fight us both. What you think he'll do if you really pissed him off by messin' with his woman?"

"I get that but if Andrea's in danger or Philip's involved in some shady business, I have to do something. I'm not going to show up at his house with a shotgun and fight it out. I'm just helping Andrea weigh her options." She rinsed the glass and dropped it in the dishwasher.

That additional detail caught his attention. "So it's more than just relationship stuff y'all pokin' at? Well aint that a goddamn treat," he spat out. Her answering scowl telegraphed her displeasure with him but he turned his back to her.

"We both handle this kind of thing all the time at the shelter. And I've certainly dealt with people just as dangerous if not more in my life. You know what I do for a living. Do you think I'm brushing up against killers and thieves and liars on a daily basis without picking up some survival skills?"

Daryl leaned against the sink, clutching the counter in frustration. "I don't understand it, that's for sure."

"Understand what?" she asked moving beside him.

He crossed his arms again, defensive and tense. "How you can be fine dealin' with all this when you got them girls out there to take care of? It don't seem right." His parents got wrapped up with all kinds of shady assholes when he was little, people who didn't give a shit that his folks had kids to look after. All they cared about was getting there's. Why wouldn't a person stay far away from folks who wouldn't think twice about doing them and their family harm?

So lost in thought, he didn't even consider Michonne's silence. But when he peered over at her, her anger pushed up against his own. And her hurt.

"I'm not ignoring your concerns, Daryl. I understand them. And you need to hear this: there is nothing more important than keeping my kids safe and I was doing it for years while you were wandering through the woods in your spare time and trolling dive bars with your brother. My kids are more important than you or His Highness or my job or myself. I will not have you stand in my house and question that because you're pissed about a decision I've made. Letting you into our lives is my call and I know it's the right one. But those are _my_ kids and, although I respect your opinion and welcome that, _I_ am still the parent here."

That stung. It wasn't as if he thought he was a real part of their family yet and her words reminded him of that fact. He cared about them though. So much. And without meaning to, he'd pissed her off and offended her and that felt pretty crappy.

He just couldn't wrap his head around the situation.

Before he could counter, she took a deep, calming breath and turned towards him. "Daryl, let's just step away from this for a while. If we were talking about Carol or your brother being threatened, would you be this opposed to doing something to help?"

A few months ago, she'd be right on the mark with that. He wasn't so sure about it now though.

She backed up a bit trying to focus his attention on her. "This isn't about Andrea, not entirely. What is going on with you lately? I've been waiting for you to tell me and watching you get more and more on edge and now this. If we're going to do this, you need to let me in too."

Pushing himself away from the counter, Daryl circled the room, running fingers through his hair and avoiding any eye contact with her. Taking a breather sounded like a good idea. He didn't want to say anything else to piss her off even if he wasn't convinced she was making the right call. And she was right, with or without resolution on this Andrea situation, he needed to talk to her. He was fretting on something but he hadn't meant for it to come out like this.

He returned to where Michonne stood, arms crossed and waiting for an explanation. He pulled at her hand and when she loosened her stance, he took her other hand too.

"Didn't mean to call ya a bad mom. You know I don't think that." He'd told her so only an hour ago. Squeezing her hands, he hoped she could pick up that he was sorry and didn't want to fight with her.

He took a few moments to get his thoughts together on how to explain this other thing going on in his life.

"I got a call the other week 'bout Merle. He's gettin' out next month and they're tryin' to find him a place to stay and a job and all that. He's relyin' on me to help pick up the pieces like always but I got other concerns than takin' care 'a his sorry ass. But he's my brother and I can't turn my back on 'em."

Michonne sighed and pulled him closer to her. "What kind of help is he asking for?"

"Of course, he wants to crash. And he knows about my job and been talkin' 'bout me hookin' 'em up. But I know how he is and I feel like he's gonna fuck things up for me there. Aint no way he can work with Dale or T-Dog without shootin' off his damn mouth." He shuffled his feet a little. "Can't tell him that though. He'll just get mad. Make things more difficult." It frustrated him how dealing with Merle turned him into the passive little brother all over again.

"There are places that can help him find a job. I know of some reentry programs that can help. Maybe you can pass it along to him or his parole officer or something."

Daryl huffed about that, skeptical. "Maybe." It pissed him off that he had to deal with this at all. But that's what you did for family and Daryl wouldn't be the one to walk away from his responsibilities as a brother. Perhaps it's why he'd gotten so mad at Michonne about helping out Andrea—he understood too well the bullshit you had to deal with taking on other people's problems. Why would anyone do that if they didn't have to?

He supposed Michonne would say that she didn't have much of a choice either, not because of who asked but because of the kind of person she prided herself on being.

"Does he know about us? About the girls?" Her question was subdued though it lacked any expectation.

Daryl shrugged. "He knows I'm seein' somebody. I mentioned you a while back. Been makin' fun 'a me about it, not mean, just in his usual way." There'd been some ribbing from Merle during Daryl's visits and some snide remarks on a few phone calls but nothing major by Merle standards.

"Let me guess. He doesn't know I'm black. He doesn't know I'm a lawyer. He doesn't know about the girls or how much we like when you come over and play with us."

Smiling sadly, Daryl leaned down and kissed her. She made things so much easier on him sometimes. She'd recognize exactly what he was thinking but didn't want to say or would let things pass so that he wouldn't have to talk about the emotional stuff.

In moments like this, he felt as if he didn't deserve it.

He hadn't wanted to face the reality of how crazy his brother is and how much trouble he'd make for them if he knew what was going on. It was pulling him in two directions because he loved his brother, would never leave him hanging. The man was a loose cannon and a pain in the ass; he might even be considered a bad person to some. But they had been through a lot together and Merle cared about him in his own fucked up way. He'd been all Daryl had for a long time.

Yet it made him sick to think of giving up Michonne and the girls. And he wouldn't let his brother antagonize them. He'd do anything to keep that from happening.

"I aint good at sayin' stuff I'm feelin'. You know that about me." She held his hands tighter and caressed them with her thumbs, encouraging him to trust in her. "I didn't always do the right thing before when it was just me and Merle. I'm scared when he gets out, I'm 'a get pulled into all that again. Everything's gon' change and I'm 'a lose this. Just over and done with 'cause I don't deserve it. Aint been much good to happen to me and since meetin' ya, aint nothin' but good stuff been happenin'."

Michonne let go of his hands and drew him into a brief embrace "You earned all this goodness on your own no matter what's happened in the past. And we're not going to let you go so easily. You never know, maybe your brother will surprise you. I'm sure he wants the best for you even if he's got a backwards way of going about it."

"You don't know how he is. He's gon' make trouble, that's for sure."

She chuckled. "I think I can guess how he is based on what you've told me. And he doesn't know me and how determined I am to keep you with us. My family's not exactly winning awards either." Daryl nodded. He didn't know much about her family except that they were distant. "Dealing with all this stuff comes with the territory of letting someone into your life."

"If you say so. I still aint got no idea how my brother is gon' get over this. He's like a dog with a bone when he gets it in his head to be an asshole. All he's gon' see is what ya look like and that I'm choosin' you over him. Nothin' else matters." Stepping back, he kept hold of her hands and bowed his head. "I aint never done this with nobody. Like really bein' somebody's boyfriend. I guess I'm still learnin'."

"He's going to have to get over it if he wants to be in your life. Or at least I hope that's what you tell him."

"Hell yeah. I'll make him act right if I have to. I aint givin' y'all up. You gon' have to throw me out and change the locks to keep me away."

"Hopefully it won't come to that." Then she grinned. "But it might if you refer to yourself as my 'boyfriend' again."

Daryl laughed and surrendered to his urge to hug her, squeezing her hard and swinging her from side to side. "Ya don't like that? Should I call ya my girl?" he asked, stepping back.

Michonne screwed up her nose. "No."

"How 'bout my 'significant other,'" he mocked with an overly formal emphasis.

Giggling, she pinched him. "No."

"My old lady?" he offered, knowing what kind of response that would get.

"You better not."

"How 'bout I call ya my sweetie."

She made a show of thinking on that one. "I'll accept that."

"Sweetie it is." He cradled her face and kissed her deeply, pushing her against the counter and pressing into her. When he'd had his fill, he simply held her in his arms.

Hearing movement in the next room and peeking around the corner, they saw that Octavia was sitting up, still sleepy but flipping through the channels on the TV. Ursula continued to sleep soundly next to her.

"I guess nap time is over," Michonne said.

Daryl stared at her, now feeling calmer and less anxious. "Almost." Moving over to the refrigerator he opened the door and scanned the options inside. "How 'bout cheese and crackers for a snack and then we order some pizza later on?"

Michonne joined him, doing her own perusal of their options. "If we do pizza, let's give them some celery and peanut butter." She rubbed his back and went to the cabinet to pull out a plate and knife. "No olives on the pizza this time," she added, grabbing a couple of cups.

Daryl smiled remembering how much the girls hated that particular topping. "No olives. But we gon' get extra pepperoni."

"Deal." She pulled out the milk and poured a serving for Octavia into her Wonder Woman cup. Returning everything to its place, Michonne kissed him as she passed by and disappeared into the other room to check on her. It gave Daryl some time to prepare the snacks and get himself together once more.

It wasn't like anything had really gotten settled with the Andrea business or about Merle or James. Yet he felt better all the same. Her reassurance helped him feel stronger, as if they could get through anything.

One thing was for sure. Whatever happened, he'd fight for what he had here with Michonne and her daughters, friendships and family ties be damned.

TBC …

* * *

**_AN: Thanks to everyone still hanging with me, especially those of you offering your feedback and support through reviews and alerts and PMs. Life is a bit hectic so, unfortunately, I'm a little slower to update these days. But the muse is still working and I'll try to crank out updates as I get the chance. Writing this has been a great stress reliever so a_****_nother cookie to Jacqi Kennedy for making me dust this story off (and for the comics knowledge) and to my beta C. for continuing to be my go-to for random questions._**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Michonne was just climbing into her car when her cell phone rang. She groaned hoping it wasn't someone from her office needing something. She'd worked hard to get out early today and would be extremely annoyed to have that ruined.

Checking the caller ID, she saw that it was Daryl and relaxed.

"Hey there."

"Where ya at, babe? Better not still be at work 'cause if I have to come get ya, you gon' pay for it later." Michonne thought she might not mind that at all depending on his method of punishment.

"Don't worry. I'm leaving now and am on my way to you."

"Gotta make sure you aint cuttin' and runnin' or got stuck at work." He sounded like he wasn't indoors. She could hear the muffled echoes of motion and maybe the wind outside.

"Me? You just better make sure you're ready with my surprise." Michonne checked her watch. "Traffic's not that great right now so you've got plenty of time before I show up. Still no hints about what we're doing today?"

She could practically hear him gloating over the phone. "Need to learn ya some patience, woman."

Daryl had been teasing her for over a week about sharing something special today. She had no clue what he had in mind but she was enjoying the excitement of it, especially on his part. He'd been stressed lately with Merle out on parole and living with him again. Yet she got the impression that, despite his brother's difficulties, there was a large part of Daryl that was happy to have the man back in his life, not that he'd been terribly forthcoming about the situation to her. And she had yet to meet Merle; any suggestion of that inevitable event made Daryl extremely uncomfortable. If Daryl had provided his brother any more details about his relationship with her, Daryl wasn't talking about it. That made her think that either he hadn't gotten around to telling Merle anything or that he had and the reaction to it wasn't good. Neither were exactly ideal situations.

That was a conflict for another day though.

Alternating to her other ear so she could stow her purse in the seat next to her, Michonne frowned at Daryl's smugness. "Patience is easy for you. You're not the one at somebody else's mercy."

She heard a door slam and an engine start. "Day aint over. Ya still got time to switch that up."

"Is that a challenge?" she asked, starting up her own engine.

"Might be. You think on it." His cockiness made Michonne laugh. "I gotta tie somethin' up for work but I aint gon' be long. See you in a minute."

"Alright. See you soon." She disconnected and switched her phone into Bluetooth mode before pulling out of the parking lot.

It was a relief to feel that instant ease in their relationship again. She'd noticed how tentative he'd become around her lately and it hurt a little even as she realized her partial responsibility for it. Usually, she tried to be so careful with him and she regretted her lapses on that front.

They'd recently had their first significant fight, a disagreement over Andrea and the dangers of getting involved in her histrionics. The actual situation with Andrea currently simmered on the back burner while the woman pondered her options but the discomfort over their differing opinions still lingered. What she took away from the conflict was that she and Daryl still had a lot of work to do as a couple.

Looking back on it, their physical and emotional connection had been so simple, the romantic attraction a natural progression of respect and friendship. If she were being honest, he'd held her attention way back when he'd offered his support that night at the fundraiser, enhanced by how wonderfully he'd interacted with her kids the next day.

It had been a long time since Michonne had felt that kind of genuine consideration and, once experienced, she'd longed for more.

A lot of that yearning stemmed from how often she kept people at a distance, always capable of taking care of herself as the epitome of the strong black woman archetype. Years of disappointments meant that she didn't wait for others to step in and provide for her. Her family had never been the kind she could count on. She'd put herself through college and law school, relied only on herself and a few close friends to weather the circumstances of her younger life. Even James had known her as this force of nature so he never concerned himself with whether she felt secure or offered critical backup when she needed it. It was one of the reasons they had split—after falling into their routines, he couldn't give her the kind of support she felt she deserved yet resented the control she held over their household.

With Daryl, he saw her as independent and competent and respected her for that. And he also cared about noticing the things that were important to her and providing it without reservation, maybe not in so many words but with the way he checked on her and listened to her and allowed her to see the depths to him as well. Their relationship wasn't a competition over who got to wear the crown and be obeyed.

That's why their argument had hit a sensitive spot with her. After the shock of seeing Andrea resurface, Daryl turned ruthlessly protective and she loved him for that. She didn't like feeling bullied, though, even if that hadn't been his intention.

And she realized afterwards that going with the flow couldn't work for them anymore. It might be difficult to navigate but there were boundaries that needed to be set and sensibilities to discuss; some of the walls she'd erected would have to come down. She'd started on that path with a very terse point about his relationship with Octavia and Ursula and there would be other things to come up along the road—communicating their needs, dealing with conflict and differing expectations, his brother, hell, her entire family and that set of complications. And all of this while handling the societal pressures that question why they were together in the first place.

No one said relationships were easy. But they both had fought for everything they had in life and this was no different.

Half an hour after speaking with Daryl, Michonne pulled up to the garage checking the clock on her dashboard. Traffic had been suspiciously light so she was a little early, although not by much. Maybe if Daryl was finished for the day they could take off ahead of schedule and get on the road before the traffic became the beast she knew it could be. The anticipation of finally seeing her surprise had snowballed on the drive over.

Looking into the interior of the space in front of her, the area seemed pretty vacant as if everyone had left for the day. There was a van parked near the back but the lights weren't even on at that part of the garage. Someone had to be around if the shop was still open though. Daryl said that sometimes they'd be in the supply area or the office so perhaps he was hiding out there.

Exiting the car, she decided to shed her blazer as the sun continued to beat down pretty hard in the waning afternoon hours. The high pitch of her car alarm as she locked the doors echoed across the empty parking area. She walked into the garage and confirmed that there were no voices or activity and she wasn't going to go snooping around the building looking for Daryl. Checking her watch once more, she noted that it was only ten minutes before their agreed upon meeting time. She pulled out her phone to call and check whether their plan was still on.

"Can I help you?"

Surprised but not startled, Michonne glanced up to take in the older man walking out of a small room off to the side. That must be the office Daryl had mentioned. The man had white hair and a beard and wore a floppy hat that would probably shade his eyes from the sun if he were actually outside and not deep in a darkened garage.

"Hi. I'm looking for Daryl Dixon. I'm supposed to meet him here at four."

The man strolled over to her with an open smile. "You must be Daryl's lady friend. He said something this morning about you coming by to pick him up. I'm Dale." He reached out and offered his hand which Michonne shook in pleasant greeting.

"It's nice to meet you. Daryl speaks very highly of you."

Dale chuckled. "I'm glad to hear it. Daryl can be a man of few words so if he used a couple of them on me, it's nice to hear they're good ones." His smile broadened. "In that vein, I must admit that I've never caught your name."

Michonne eyed Daryl's boss with a friendly wariness. He struck her as one of those wily old gentleman that you had to keep an eye on. "I'm Michonne. Actually, I believe we have another friend in common. Andrea? She's the one you really have to worry about spilling your dark secrets."

Before she even got that explanation out, she spotted the recognition in his face. Michonne wasn't exactly a common name. "Yes, Andrea has mentioned you, many times." He shook his head. "Although I'm afraid I haven't seen much of her these past months. Until very recently she's been off the grid. I'm sure you know all about that," he added with a somber, knowing expression.

She sighed. "Yeah, I do. But she's coming around."

"She is. I'm just hoping she hasn't gotten in too deep and poked the wrong bear if you know what I mean." Michonne nodded and they left it at that, not willing to gossip further about their mutual friend.

Brightening, Dale continued, "I didn't put two and two together from what Andrea told me about you and the few things I've heard from Daryl."

"I prefer being more a woman of mystery anyway," she said, grinning. "I take it Daryl's not around then?"

Dale surveyed the room as if confirming her assessment. "No, he and T-Dog had to do a last minute run to one of our sites. Everyone else is gone for the day and I just happened to be available so I decided to hold down the fort. I don't get out here much and it's actually nice to get some work done without the distractions at the office."

Michonne nodded, understanding that dynamic completely.

"Anyway, Daryl probably thought he'd make it back in time to meet you but I'm sure he'll call if it gets too much later." He led her towards the other side of the garage and around the corner, revealing a small break room. "Can I get you anything to drink? Some water or coffee? I'm actually quite keen for some coffee myself." He walked over to the coffee maker to check if they had supplies for such hospitality. "You're welcome to wait here. They really should be back soon."

"Coffee would be nice. I don't want to interrupt your work though. I'm fine waiting here."

Dale waved her off. "Oh no, I'm happy for the break." He prepared the machine and joined her at one of the tables. "Besides, how could I pass up an opportunity to learn more about the Michonne I've heard so much of from Andrea and the special friend Daryl's been hiding, both of whom just happen to be the same person. Imagine that." He took off his hat and placed it beside him on the table, smoothing his balding head. "From Andrea, I know you're brilliant and dedicated. From Daryl, well, I know you don't like it when he calls you his girlfriend, although I'm pretty certain he's not sure why." She shook her head at that. "He also thinks you're—and I quote—"beautiful" and "amazing" and "stubborn as a mule in winter" whatever that means. But he's always in a better mood after he spends time with you. Since I have no qualms about embarrassing him on this topic, I feel no shame in telling you he's quite smitten."

"I'm not gonna complain about hearing those types of things. And I'm rather fond of him myself. Besides, I guess it's only fair since I know a bit about you. It's surprising we've never met given how much Andrea talks about you."

"I don't think it's ever worked out. Also, I spent a lot of last year traveling with my wife before she died so there hasn't been much opportunity I suppose."

"Yes, I heard about her passing. I'm so sorry."

He smiled wearily, the reminder a sadness, no doubt. "Thank you for that. We had a good life together and she went peacefully and that's all I can ask for." He sighed and let the matter rest. "And I have this place to keep me busy. Daryl's been a great help with that lately. I'm glad Tyreese referred him to us."

"It's been a wonderful opportunity for him." Even though she'd taken an immediate liking to Dale and knew him to be a good guy from both Daryl's and Andrea's descriptions, she was still quite aware that she was shooting the breeze with Daryl's boss. It seemed best not to reveal too much of Daryl's thoughts concerning his job.

Dale popped up to check the coffee. "So you're a lawyer like Andrea? Public defender right?" Michonne nodded. "Well, that's good work. Tough work too, I bet."

'Tough' sounded like a gross understatement to Michonne but that was an entirely different conversation. "It can be. I enjoy it though. It keeps me busy along with my children."

Dale smiled at her as he filled two cups with hot coffee. "Yes, two girls right? Daryl full on gushes about those two, well, gushing for Daryl anyway. Sugar or cream?" Michonne shook her head. "When he came back all tanned and tired from that Memorial Day trip to the coast, he tried to blame it on them and their insistence that he show them the ocean."

Taking the offered cup from Dale, Michonne blew on it and set it aside to cool. "Well, I have to back him up on that one. I wasn't about to get in that ocean water so Daryl did step up that time. He's actually pretty great with them and sometimes I think they like him more than me," she joked.

"You know, he has such a hard edge, Daryl. I'm in no way prying or gossiping but he strikes me as someone who's had a tough life. Sure he can be a bit churlish but you don't get like that unless you've spent a lifetime having to be that way." Michonne sensed nothing but sincerity from him so she nodded in understanding. "Even as guarded as he can be, I have no problem imagining him being good with kids. Or catching himself a prize such as yourself," he added with a twinkle to his eye.

Shaking her head, Michonne took a sip of her coffee to hide her grin.

"Hey Dale?" someone called from out in the main area. It wasn't Daryl's voice so she wondered who else had wandered in. A moment later, a bald, stocky young man came through the doorway carrying a clipboard. "Hey, we're—" He paused when he saw Michonne and his brow furrowed in question.

Dale stood, taking his coffee with him. "Ah, T-Dog. Just in time. Have you met Michonne?" he asked, gesturing to where she sat. Michonne rose as well and went to shake his hand. T-Dog accepted the greeting still looking perplexed. "She's waiting on Daryl. I take it the both of you made it back?"

T-Dog's expression changed from curiosity to knowing humor and bit of surprise. "So you're the woman that's always putting that smile on his face. We keep asking him about you. He's been real tight-lipped on the issue."

She sent Dale a chastising look. "You didn't tell me that part." Dale shrugged, smug and unapologetic. Definitely wily.

Still staring at her, T-Dog set his clipboard aside and folded his arms. "I have half a mind to reprimand him for keeping you such a secret. You're not what I expected at all."

Rolling her eyes good naturedly—he was still Daryl's boss after all—she grabbed her cup of coffee and took another sip. "We get that a lot actually."

He frowned. "I didn't mean it like _that_, well, not entirely," he backtracked. "I didn't mean to cause any offense is what I'm trying to say." In Michonne's experience, they never do, or so they claim.

Dale shook his head and walked over to the man to grab his clipboard. "T-Dog, you and that mouth," he chided.

Michonne was willing to let it go though. On the face of it, she and Daryl _were_ an odd couple in some ways. Even if it shouldn't be a big deal that they were together, it was unrealistic to expect folks not to pick up on that a little. "I know you meant no disrespect," she said. She smiled at him but it was reserved and her steady expression conveyed her ongoing assessment of him. It unnerved the man, she could tell.

"Anybody besides me workin' 'round here?" Daryl's grumpy voice called from outside. He turned the corner and spotted the two men in the break room. "What y'all doin'? Takin' a coffee break? I just pulled the van 'round back. Let's log this in and get the hell outta here." He hadn't yet walked far enough into the room to see Michonne but when he spotted her he stopped in his tracks.

"Hey," she greeted, a grin growing on her face at the sight of him.

"Hey," he returned, nervously, not sure how to act with this combination of people in one room. Dale was looking at him with an expression of amused wickedness. T-Dog still seemed a little scared but also very intrigued about his employee's personal life.

They all stared back and forth, no one really sure what to say or do. Dale spoke up first. "I was just keeping Michonne company while she waited. I didn't realize she was also acquainted with my friend Andrea."

That made Daryl more anxious. He was aware of the relationship between the two but since he didn't have the most positive of interactions with Andrea, he'd chosen to avoid any conversation related to her with his boss.

"Yeah, I don't know her that well," Daryl deflected.

Dale narrowed his eyes in thought. "No, I suppose you don't. I don't think she knows you that well either." His words suggested that Andrea had at least mentioned the man recently, probably in relation to their confrontation at her house. Dale wouldn't necessarily have known that Andrea was referring to his employee though.

Diverting the conversation, Michonne said, "I got here a little early so Dale was kind enough to make me some coffee and chat." She smiled over at the older man. "Please, don't let me keep you any further. You guys get back to what you need to be doing."

T-Dog shook himself out of his shell-shock and headed for the door. "The lady's got a point. Nice to meet you, Michonne. I'll have your boy here sprung in no time." He pulled at Daryl's arm and led the man out of the room. Daryl bowed his head and followed, Dale at his heels. She heard the low murmurs of insistent conversation, T-Dog grilling him for details probably.

And people thought women were the gossips.

Michonne sat back down and enjoyed her coffee while checking a few emails on her phone. Ten minutes later, Daryl came back in, now wearing a clean shirt and with his vest in hand. She'd dropped him off this morning so he didn't have keys or his truck to deal with before taking off. He draped his vest over a chair and then turned it so he could straddle it and sit down next to her.

Dropping her phone, she glanced up and immediately noticed the reddish hue to his face. He must have gotten quite a ribbing from T-Dog and Dale to be blushing this much. It was difficult to hide her amusement and despite the smile tugging at his lips, his demeanor was screaming, 'not a word.' He should know better than to think she'd honor that silent request.

"Cat's out of the bag, huh?"

"I aint hidin' ya or nothin'. Just not about havin' my business all around town."

Michonne narrowed her eyes at him. "So what have you told them about me?"

He shifted nervously in his seat. She considered taking it easy on him since he had probably just been put through the ringer. But the situation was too good to pass up.

"Told 'em I had me a fine-ass woman who's sometimes a pain in my ass."

"Very funny," she huffed, rising to her feet.

He got up as well and grabbed her coffee cup to take to the trash. "Don't take no genius to guess why they were surprised by ya." He shrugged. "Except now they look at me like I won the damn lottery." Back at her side, he put his arm around her and leaned down to peck her on the lips.

"You did luck out. Who knew I'd find that Dixon charm so irresistible?" Grinning, he reached up and pulled at a strand of her hair to tease her. "Speaking of which, how about we get to this surprise you've been talking up? You make me wait any longer and you're going to regret goading me into switching things up on you. Having you at my mercy sounds pretty appealing right about now."

That reminder—and the threat—had Daryl almost giddy with anticipation. "Let's get to it then." He held his hand out for her keys and she reluctantly turned them over.

TBC …

* * *

**_AN: So sorry about the slow updates—life is super chaotic right now. But thank you for continuing to read. I have a bunch of chapters in the can so hopefully before too long I can pick up the pace again._**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Daryl leisurely drove Michonne's car through the backstreets of town, occasionally singing along to the radio or tapping out a beat on the steering wheel. The more casual he appeared about the trip, the more it drove her crazy.

They were closer to his neck of the woods after braving a bit of afternoon traffic. Michonne recognized the direction they were headed until he left the highway and started weaving through the local roads; that caused her curiosity to jump another couple of notches. And he was thoroughly enjoying how antsy she appeared, alternating between looking out the window, checking her phone and sneaking glances at him as he drove. It was so rare that he got to hold anything like this over on her and he was going to savor it while it lasted.

Actually, he felt really nervous taking her on this trip, unsure of whether his idea would be something she'd appreciate. Of course, she'd go along with it; she was great about trying new things with him even if they weren't her cup of tea. And this outing was all about helping him with something he loved and Daryl hoped she'd find a way to have a good time with it too.

It was a risky move as far as dates go.

They'd chatted a bit on the way over, she trying to squeeze more hints out of him while he played coy. He also continued his assurances that he did say nice things about her to the people he worked with, even if that meant holding his cards close to the chest. T-Dog had hounded him for keeping Michonne such a mystery. But what was he supposed to say on it? 'By the way, even though you think I'm a total redneck, I landed me a hot, black girlfriend who's also a super smart lawyer.' The whole idea of that was ridiculous. The world around them did enough to underestimate their relationship in that way and Daryl refused to buy into it too.

And he also started realizing that telling folks how things were between him and Michonne could keep them from jumping to conclusions in the first place. He normally kept a lot of his private life to himself for being embarrassed by the things he had to deal with or not wanting to feel judged. It would take some getting used to, the fact that there were these good things he could share freely without being weird about it.

Yet he still hesitated, especially after noticing the bit of distance between them lately. He wasn't sure if it was just him not knowing how relationships work or if it was something he should be concerned about.

Their initial connection had been immediate, not the attraction so much but the sense of trust and the instinct that the other was a good person who deserved respect. For him at least, that quickly transformed into an appreciation, then fascination, and finally a longing for her that he'd never thought would amount to anything. He'd wanted to protect her even knowing she could take care of herself; he wanted to support her even though she'd never asked him to. Deep down, he'd wanted her to rely on him, and not just when it came to entertaining her daughters whom he'd been fond of from the moment he laid eyes on them. If someone as independent and together as Michonne could see something in him then maybe Carol and Rick were right: he really could start over and be whatever he wanted to be.

When they'd decided to be together, nothing much changed because they'd already been good friends, although good friends who were deeply attracted to each other. They were both more affectionate, certainly, and neither one was shy about sex so that hadn't impacted their relationship much either. They only saw each other slightly more often than normal—he lived about an hour away from her, door to door and she was as busy as ever with her work and parental responsibilities.

At the same time, it was difficult to understand where he stood with her. The day that Andrea had popped back into their lives, Michonne had let him know exactly how she saw his role. That he had no say in it frustrated him. But she'd also let him know that he was important to her and she wanted him in her and her daughters' lives too so the sting of her words didn't hurt as bad.

In a lot of ways, she was still very closed off. He knew next to nothing about her past or her family except the few anecdotes she'd share from time to time. He always thought about her when managing his schedule but when it came to the decisions she made and what she did with her time, he had almost no say in that either. She came and went as she pleased and didn't think much of making plans without telling him. There was very little dropping in on her because they scheduled everything first. She was as likely to get irritated by a surprise visit as to not even be home. He thought he was fine with that given that he wasn't trying to get tied down too quickly either. But even though she said they were a team, he wondered if she actually meant that.

It's one of the reasons he'd chosen this outing. Maybe if he involved her in his life a little more then she would return the favor.

Seeing the sign for their destination up ahead, he checked on Michonne and saw that she was again scrutinizing him, not in that intimidating way of hers but with an adorably curious expression. Finally, he pulled off the road and guided the car into a parking lot, noting that it wasn't as crowded as he thought it'd be. That would make things go more smoothly.

Cutting the engine, he turned again to Michonne and saw her confusion turn to surprise and then a questioning delight. They were at his local motorcycle dealership where he would pick out a bike that he'd been saving up for over the past year. He'd still have to finance some of it but most of it he'd be able to pay up front and, with a stable job, he felt okay taking on a little debt.

"You're finally pulling the trigger." Her words contained a tinge of excitement and satisfaction, both of which set Daryl at ease.

"Yeah. Wanted ya to have my back when I did it. Ya know, help me pick out the perfect bike with that big brain 'a yours."

Michonne's grin was encouraging although she shook her head as she unhooked her seatbelt and turned in the seat to face him. "You do know I have no clue about motorcycles. As flattered as I am, I'm afraid you're not going to get much help from me."

Daryl shrugged, unhooking his own seatbelt. "Don't matter. Thought I could learn ya a thing or two while we're out here. If that don't work, then I still get to see how good you look on the back 'a my new bike."

She laughed and leaned over to caress his cheek and ruffle his hair, now shorter following the cut he'd gotten a few days before. "Such a sweet talker." Her smile faded. "I just …" she paused, perhaps searching for the words to explain herself. "I thought this would be something you'd want to do with Merle." Glancing away for a moment, she turned back to him with softness to her eyes. "Thanks for including me."

Maybe he was right to take a chance on this idea. Something really good could come of it for them.

Her words brought a bit of focus to the situation. Having his brother around this past week or so was strangely comforting and things were going better than he'd expected. Sure, Merle drove him crazy, leaving all his crap everywhere and never cleaning after himself. There were the constant pleas to go hang out, not used to Daryl's busy schedule. But it seemed like he was trying to make a go of things, maybe prompted by Daryl's example. Even Merle's snide comments about his mysterious girlfriend were more the usual ribbing from an older brother rather than mean-spirited insults.

It made him think that keeping Merle in his life and being with Michonne were things that could peacefully coexist, although he continued to put off the potentially disastrous meeting of the two.

"Me and Merle was here a few days ago and we kinda narrowed it down so he got his say on it. I wanted you with me to make the final call. He knows his motorcycles but, I don't know, it seems right doing this last bit with you." In his mind, she and Rick and Carol all played a part in making this happen. "I know it aint no dinner and a movie kinda thing but it's what I got."

She was smiling at him when she chanced to look his way again. "I think I might like this better," she said. "It'll be fun." Opening the car door, she hopped out and he followed after her.

Walking into the showroom, Daryl waved to the owner, Steve, a pretty decent guy who he'd known for a few years. The plan was for Daryl to show Michonne around a bit, impress her with his know-how, maybe get her on a few bikes. She was certainly dressed for the occasion in some nicely tight jeans and sturdy boots. He let her walk a bit in front of him so he could admire the view.

They strolled past a few models and he explained the basics to her, Michonne attentive and inquisitive.

"So how long have you been into motorcycles?" she mused after he pointed out a bike that looked similar to the first one he'd ever ridden.

"Hell, in my town, if you aint into motorcycles, you might as well pack it up." He circled the vintage model, checking out the familiar contours of the design. "Don't remember too much 'bout my granddad but he had one 'a these. Loved that damn thing more than he loved his own kids. I shoulda known right then I wadn't comin' from the most nurturin' 'a stock." He frowned and gripped one of the handlebars. "I used to watch 'em while he fixed it, beg him to give me rides and he did a few times. If he wadn't drunk or pissed off he'd talk to me 'bout how it worked and stuff."

Michonne stared at him from across the bike as if trying to imagine a younger version of him on it.

"Crazy bastard caught himself a stroke and I swear not ridin' that bike 'bout killed him again. Right before the second stroke took 'em, he dragged that damn thing into the front yard and set it on fire," he explained, mimicking a huge flame. "Said wadn't none 'a his ungrateful kids gon' get their hands on it. Thing is, I woulda taken care 'a that thing better than he did but he couldn't see it 'cause he was a hateful old prick." Daryl shook his head at the memory.

Cocking her head, Michonne placed a hand on the seat and tested out the bike's sturdiness. "Is this one of the motorcycles you're thinking about?"

Daryl took one last look at the bike and then guided Michonne away. "Naw. I'm 'a do my own thing, not wallow on some old memory."

She nodded. "So did your mom have a motorcycle too?"

"That's a joke, right?" he said, bumping her with his shoulder and laughing when she glared at him. "The old man had one and my mom didn't mind taggin' along. My dad liked to show her off. The bike, not my mom." They stopped next to another model and Daryl pointed out a few examples of a design detail she'd asked about a few minutes before.

"Now my dad? He was a Harley man but he was too lazy and cheap to do anything with the one he had. He wadn't around no way for me to think much of his ride one way or the other."

Skipping over a few other motorcycles that didn't interest Daryl, they came to a gorgeous, expensive hog that he and Merle had drooled over.

"Right here is a thing 'a beauty. Don't get too close 'cause I can't handle all that sexy goin' on at once." She poked him in the arm but was smiling as she did it. The design was flawless, the paint job badass. The engine was top of the line and better than anything he'd ever gotten his hands on. It had a price tag to match too.

"Tell me about Merle's bike. You never did manage to get me on that thing." Merle would probably flip his shit if he thought she'd been on his bike but the idea of that just made him want to do it to spite his ignorance.

"Merle loves that bike. Dumped a shitload 'a money into that thing but it's a nice ride, I'll give 'em that. He bought it from one 'a his friends back in the day and fixed it good as new. You can't find too many like that no more." Daryl caressed the handlebars of his dream motorcycle and moved on to some more realistic bikes in his price range.

He went on a little more about this feature or that engine spec, wondering if she was actually enjoying the outing. "I aint boring ya am I?"

"No, I'm having a pretty good time. It's nice to see this side of you." She did indeed seem relaxed and excited for him. "Instead of crammed in a club pretending we can hear each other or sitting around at home, we're doing something momentous. And I get to watch you geek out about something."

"I aint geekin' out," he protested.

She took his arm and squeezed it. "You're geeking out, Daryl. Admit it. Embrace it." He shook his head at her and moved on.

Finally they reached one of the motorcycles he was considering. "What you think 'bout this one, babe?" He didn't want to bias her and he was rather curious on how much of his teachings she'd picked up.

"Well, it's pretty." That wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for.

Sensing his disapproval, she tried again. "Looks, uh, sturdy?" She put her hand on the seat and pushed down as Daryl rolled his eyes. "It's got a good height and has the kind of tires you said you wanted."

That was more like it.

"And you also said you preferred this style of frame to that other type." She pointed to the bike next to them that indeed had the frame that didn't do much for him.

"Not bad." He hopped on the motorcycle to get another feel of it. "This is one 'a the contenders."

Michonne circled him as he tested out the feel of the machine beneath him. "You look good."

He rattled off the features of this motorcycle watching her absorb it all as if she were taking notes for a pop quiz. "The other one I'm thinkin' 'bout is over there." He hopped off the bike and took her hand to walk across the showroom. "So what did y'all do in your family if ya aint got a motorcycle to bond over?"

She furrowed her brow in concentration, thinking about the question. "Nothing really. We're not a particularly close family. We all kind of had our own thing going on." He could sense a tension at the memory and wondered about the longer story. "My dad got me into fencing though. He'd taken it up in college and tried to get all his kids into it. I'm the only one who stayed interested."

He whistled at the mental image. "Michonne with a sword? Kinda scary, kinda hot."

"Stop it," she said. "More like a saber. Long, skinny thing." She grinned wickedly at him. "I'll have to show you sometime. I haven't used it since law school but I've still got it around the house somewhere."

"Can't wait," he replied, returning the grin. He tried once more to dig for some personal details. "I know y'all talk from time to time, but are ya still close with your dad?"

Michonne shrugged but didn't say more. It concerned him how quickly she'd shut down but he decided not to dwell on it.

When they reached the other motorcycle he was considering, he again asked what she thought.

"Hmm." She took a moment to give it a good once-over. "Well, it's big."

"C'mon Michonne, help me out here."

"Uh, it's … manly? It's more like that really expensive one you like but, I don't know, it doesn't have the same charm as the other one."

He didn't know what to make of that. What the hell did charm mean when talking about a motorcycle?

"I feel like this one is trying too hard. It's got all the bells and whistles and it's nice but it's even bigger than Merle's."

Daryl circled the bike and then hopped on for a moment before climbing back off and circling it again. Michonne pointed out this or that detail to question him about, probably thinking he was annoyed that she didn't take to it as much as he did. But he put an affectionate arm around her waist and pulled her closer as he answered.

"Hey Daryl, you finally ready to make a decision?" Steve had noticed that they'd stalled at this particular bike and had come over to offer some help.

"Hey, man, how's it goin'?" He shook Steve's hand. "This is my girl, Michonne." She gave him a slight kick to his foot in disapproval of that title and he kicked her back. "Gonna get her sense 'a things 'fore I take the plunge, you know." It was kind of strange admitting to that. He didn't want to make it sound like he needed her permission but he was kind of proud that he had someone in his life to make this type of decision with.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he directed at Michonne. To Daryl, he said, "I remember you and your brother leaning towards this one pretty hard."

Daryl glanced at Michonne but her expression was unreadable. "Yeah, Merle was keen on this one. Said you could really do a lot with the custom work and it looked good on the highway."

Steve nodded. "It's a nice piece of machinery. So's your option over there," he added, pointing towards his other choice across the room. "What's your take on it, Miss Michonne?"

Daryl almost laughed over how she was probably grinding her teeth at being called that.

"It's Daryl's call but I like the other one better."

"Well, let me tell you a little about them both and then you can think on it."

He went about the spiel he'd offered to give to him and Merle the other day if Merle hadn't gone off acting like he knew more than everyone else on the subject. Daryl listened carefully, trying to narrow down the options to the important stuff so he could make a good decision. He'd interject with a clarification or question every so often as he stared between the two vehicles.

After Steve's explanation, Daryl circled the motorcycle again deep in thought.

"What's on your mind, Dixon?" Michonne asked.

Daryl sighed. "If I'm hearin' right, I can do a lot 'a my own modifications on this." Steve nodded. "But the gas mileage sounds like it's shit and the parts'll run me a penny." Steve reluctantly agreed. "With that other one, I'm stuck with a lot 'a the features but it'll last me longer."

"Basically," Steve concurred.

"What you think, babe?" He thought he knew which he wanted but she had a way of seeing things really logically and that would be helpful.

"I think you should get whichever one you like. It's your hard-earned money. I still like the other one better though. This one is cooler but more unwieldy. If the other bike has better mileage, more durability and it already has a lot of the features you want, it seems like a good option." Michonne shrugged. "Do you even want to do a bunch of modifications? Why spend your time tinkering with it when you can actually be riding it?"

Daryl grunted an agreement. "This baby here is a nice ride though. Took it for a test run and everything. I gotta feelin' Merle gon' have words if I don't come back with it."

"Well, if Merle wants to come up here and pay for it, he can have a say in that. As long as it's your sweat that got you here, it's also your decision." She rubbed his back. "Let's go look at some of the other bikes and you can think about it."

Steve had been following the conversation with interest. He'd made his pitch the other day and knew that Daryl wouldn't respond well to being manipulated. "You should listen to your lady. That's a good idea. We got plenty of time. Just give me a holler when you're ready."

Daryl kept his arm around Michonne's waist and led her away. They walked silently, stopping every so often to check out one of the motorcycles as Daryl tried to wrap his head around what he should do. After ten minutes, he'd made up his mind, had it made up before he'd even brought her there actually.

"I'm 'a get the first bike," he told Michonne.

She stopped and peered up at him. "Are you sure? You seem to be really attached to that other one. You _and_ your brother."

Daryl nodded. "It's a beauty for sure but it aint what I had in mind when I started savin' money for this. Merle liked it so much I thought maybe I should go for it 'cause I deserved to have a nice ride. I guess I hoped you'd talk me into it even though I know it aint really what I want."

"I just want you to be happy with whatever you get. Don't worry about pleasing me or Merle.

He squeezed her around the waist. "I'm 'a like that bike just fine. Fix her up nice so I can look good takin' you out on it." Michonne seemed skeptical about that but said nothing. Waving Steve over, he let him know the decision he'd made.

"It's a good choice, Daryl. I got the paperwork ready in my office and we can go over the different options you want. Going by everything we've talked about, I should have something for you in stock out back."

"Good." He and Michonne walked to the back of the showroom towards the office.

A few minutes into the business end of things, Michonne's phone rang. Recognizing the caller, she decided to step out and take the call, caressing his shoulder before she left the room. That was the kind of thing that tugged at Daryl. He wondered what would be so important that she'd skip out. It didn't occur to her at all to fill him in.

He and Steve went through the features he wanted and they did indeed have a motorcycle in their reserves that fit all his criteria. All they needed to do was settle the financial details.

"You're making a good decision with this bike," Steve said. The other one is nice but yours will last you longer, be more dependable too. I didn't want to lean too hard on it in front of Merle since he seemed set on the other one. He likes his custom features but that's why he's always got that beast over at Hank's getting new parts or fixing something."

"Aint that the truth. I'm 'a go by Hank's next week when I get a sense 'a the stuff I wanna play around with."

Steve frowned. "Sounds like a plan." He paused before awkwardly meeting Daryl's eye. "Your girlfriend seems real nice and she's obviously got a good head on her shoulders but you might not wanna bring her along for that visit. Your call, of course, just, well …" He sighed. "He's a damn fine mechanic and detailer and he's been around for ages. Pretty fairly priced too."

"And he's racist as fuck. I know," Daryl said, putting the guy out of his misery. "I have half a mind to bring Michonne just to see how bad he wants my money but I wouldn't put that on her. 'Sides, aint no tellin' what I'd do if he went off on his bullshit."

"Honestly, I'm surprised Merle's behaving himself," Steve added, boldly, even if it was a decent point. But Steve had known Merle a long time.

Daryl shook his head. "It's complicated." Steve swung his gaze from his printer to Daryl, picking up on the unspoken explanation. It wasn't something Daryl was going to get into with him. And, thankfully, Michonne made her way back in and that part of the conversation shut itself tight.

She offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that."

"Everything okay?" He noted she'd still not offered any indication of what had whisked her away.

Waving him off, she glanced over his paperwork. "Yeah, it's fine. Just a thing with Octavia's school." Daryl left it alone. He didn't want to spoil the mood by questioning her on it.

"This is it, Daryl. I got everything ready for you to sign. I ran all the financials before you got here and they were approved. Your cash deposit has been applied and you're almost ready to drive off on your new bike."

Daryl grinned over at Michonne, raising an eyebrow at her.

"You want me to look it over? Perk of having a lawyer in your arsenal."

Laughing, Daryl grabbed the sheets of paper and pen. "Good to know. I got this though." He scrawled his signature and let out a deep breath. Both Steve and Michonne were smiling at him.

Seemingly unable to hold herself back, Michonne put her arms around him and placed a warm kiss to his lips. "Congratulations." He kissed her back letting the pressure linger a bit longer and returned her smile.

"Alright you two, let's go get this man some keys. You can pick out your helmets too and then that'll be that."

Michonne turned to him after they both stood up. "'Helmets' as in more than one?"

"Already told ya I'm 'a get you on this bike 'fore too long."

Ten minutes later, Daryl had climbed onto the seat of his brand new motorcycle, paid for and all his own. When he started it up, he hooted at the sound of it; he also fiddled with all the dials and switches just because he could. A few minutes of that was enough satisfaction and he powered it down and climbed off before reaching for her.

"Give it a go, babe. Try it out."

Michonne shook her head. "Oh no. I don't have any business driving a motorcycle."

"Didn't say nothin' about drivin'. Aint no way that's gonna happen till—well, till I say so. Just wanna get a good look at ya on it is all." She scowled down at the motorcycle as if it meant to do her harm. "I can spot ya if ya need it." At that, she turned her scowl on him, amusing him even more. Issuing a challenge had been the right move.

She grabbed one of the handlebars and gingerly got her bearings, grounding her foot before swinging the other over the bike. When she toddled a little before getting her balance, he almost moved in to help but realized that wouldn't go over so well with her. There was no way she could fall over unless she completely lost her balance and Michonne was too coordinated and athletic to let that happen. So he watched as she stabilized herself and tried to get a sense of where her body was supposed to go before lowering herself down into position.

And she looked as sexy as he thought she would.

The brilliant lines of the bike blended perfectly with her shapely legs and even more appealing form; that gorgeous ass of hers was made for settling on a seat the way she was. Even though it was probably her first time on a motorcycle, she grasped the handlebars with a determination to dominate, reminding him of how she sometimes handled him.

"How do I look," she asked, apprehension turning into a comfortable delight.

He whistled at her in appreciation. "Like I been waitin' all my life to see ya like this." She rolled her eyes and moved to hop off the bike. When she'd successfully disembarked, he quickly took her place and unhooked a helmet.

"Hop on." She tried backing up but he grabbed fast to her hand. "Nuh uh. We gon' do this."

"Don't you wanna get back home and show this off to Merle," she said, stalling.

"Plenty 'a time for that. But you gon' be the first one to test it out." He wouldn't say that Michonne looked scared, per se, but she was definitely not too thrilled with the idea.

She took a step towards him and he pulled her the rest of the way to his side. "I promise to take it easy on ya. Just gon' take it 'round the way a bit. Got ya a helmet and everything." He wanted the first experience on his bike to be with her, sharing in the joy and gratification and freedom of what it symbolized.

Earnest eyes met her wary ones. "Ride with me, Michonne."

Flashing him a grin, she dropped his fingers, grabbing the helmet and turning it around in her hands. She thought about the request for a few seconds more and then gripped his shoulder to climb on behind him. He held the helmet for her as she got herself comfortable and they took a moment to enjoy the feel of it, her hands at his hip and the contours of her front pressed securely against him.

Handing the helmet back, he showed her how to latch it and then kissed her again before allowing her to slip on the protective gear. "I won't let nothin' bad happen to ya."

"I know. I trust you," she responded and they shared a sweet moment of connection.

Turning around, he put on his own helmet, revved up the engine and took his woman for a ride.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: I clearly know nothing about motorcycles (I don't even drive). Please excuse any silliness due to my ignorance on the subject.**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

"It's like you aint even tryin'," Daryl said, shaking his head in disapproval.

His words sounded exasperated but Michonne could sense the humor to his tone. He'd spent the better part of an hour teaching her how to use his crossbow and it wasn't going very well putting her new skills into practice. No matter how many pointers he gave her or how meticulously he tweaked her form, she was a terrible shot. If the lack of progress frustrated him, he didn't let it show much. They were having too good a time to be spoiled by her bad technique.

Lowering the weapon, Michonne looked back at him in reproach before succumbing to laughter. "Don't judge me. You didn't come out of the womb knowing how to use this damn thing."

"Says who?" She took an aggressive lunge towards him in retaliation and he gleefully sidestepped her.

Before ending up at target practice, they'd separately spent the morning doing normal things like grocery shopping and running errands. Then Michonne drove out to Daryl's place where she asked him to use his motorcycle-purchasing skills to help pick out a bicycle for Octavia's birthday. It was an entirely different experience than their previous "bike" adventure. They playfully fought about every aspect from color to style to accessories, each claiming to know more than the other on the subject. At the height of their disagreement, he'd threatened to drop the whole thing and get the girls a puppy, not the most well-received of suggestions. After a good amount of bickering, practically chasing each other through the store and picking up a few extra items for the birthday party she was planning the following week, they loaded up her car to stow their loot at his place. The girls were not above snooping their way into ruining the surprise.

Then as a reward for their busy morning, they treated themselves to a long, afternoon trip through the country. She was getting more comfortable riding with him on his motorcycle and Daryl was all about getting her on it as often as possible. She loved that he remained so excited about his recent purchase. He'd had it for a couple of weeks and the high from the well-earned indulgence hadn't worn off.

And Daryl continued to be patient with her. He'd hint at wanting to be more integrated into her routine; she noticed the expectation surrounding some of their interactions and the unspoken disappointment for her missteps. And she realized the problem came from her difficulties letting go of the tight control she kept over her life. It was hard to trust people when the stakes felt so high and the pain of past betrayals hovered in the back of her mind. The problem was figuring out how to fix it—or more accurately, how to fix herself.

Surprisingly, it was Andrea who had provided her with some perspective on the matter when they'd recently met again about the Philip situation. The more Andrea heard of her and Daryl's courtship, the more encouraging she became, putting aside the charged encounters she'd had with the man. She thought it was a positive sign that Michonne was finally giving someone an opportunity to take care of her.

Michonne had objected to that, of course.

Remembering Daryl's biting remarks from their confrontation at the wedding, Andrea laughed good-naturedly about how eager Daryl was to stand up for her and protect her. And if Michonne truly meant to include him in her life, she'd find a way to work through her issues so she could appreciate that. That feeling of vulnerability could be overcome through trust.

'_Don't be afraid to let him spoil you a little. It doesn't mean you're weak for having him step up. To have someone willing to defend you when they think you're in harm's way __without trampling all over your autonomy_? To go to bat for you because they care? It's a gift, Mich'," Andrea argued.

And Michonne did trust Daryl. He made her feel safe and wanted and free to be herself. Their day together was largely about making an effort for him, breaking in these new habits to see how they fit.

After having lunch at the barbecue place Daryl had been talking up for months, he'd taken her out to one of his spots so he could teach her how to use his crossbow. The outing had been more comedy than an actual lesson, Daryl flirting with her as he sidled up behind her to ensure she was in the right position, or holding back his chuckles at how awful she was. In her defense, it wasn't a weapon she was keen on taking to. It was so heavy and unwieldy. When she told him she'd stick to her sword, he had no choice but to agree.

Daryl, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. He looked incredible demonstrating the weapon to her, aiming with a deft hand and strong arm, muscles taut but steady. He stared down his target with an intensity that singed her nerves just from standing next to him. He handled the weapon like a virtuoso. A rugged, sexy virtuoso. She could watch him go at it all day and be quite content.

Shaking off that arousing image of her man in his element, she awkwardly reloaded his crossbow and attempted to take another shot. Observing her stance, Daryl turned her shoulder slightly and raised her elbow a hair before stepping back. In the near distance stood her target: a lone tree. She aimed, focused and pulled the trigger.

The arrow went well left of the tree crashing into a nearby bush. The kickback forced her to stumble back a step.

A little deflated but not surprised, she winced and sagged her shoulders. "We should probably call it a day on this little experiment." With a pained nod, he agreed, taking the crossbow from her while she jogged to retrieve the missing projectile.

He kissed her as she handed him his arrow, quick but sweet. "Just need more practice."

"Or maybe I just need a sword," she countered.

"Or that." They grinned at each other and strolled back over to his motorcycle to get themselves back on the road.

By the time they pulled up to front of his place, parking next to her car, the sun's light had dimmed the sky and the evening wind began to kick up. Not too many people had been on the road, an oddity for the holiday weekend. The rumble of Daryl's motorcycle echoed through the deserted expanse leading to his front door.

Michonne hopped off the motorcycle flicking at the straps to her helmet before removing it. She shook out her hair and tried to assess how much dust she'd accumulated throughout the day. She could go for a shower. Her jeans had turned a bit dingy although her light jacket had been pretty good at blocking the wind and grime from her top half. Checking her watch, she wondered if they'd have time to wash up before heading out to meet Rick, Carol and a few other friends for a drink.

Following her movements, Daryl secured the motorcycle and took off his own helmet. He surveyed the area, probably looking for signs of Merle out of habit. Things sounded like they were going slightly better than expected with him, the older man finding work easily enough and not being a total drain on Daryl's patience. However, from what she'd gathered, he'd been none too thrilled at hearing the full story about his brother's girlfriend. Daryl had shrugged it off when he'd told her about the conversation but it bothered him; he couldn't hide the disappointment from her.

That night, she and the girls had curled up with him while they watched a movie to show him that his devotion was appreciated.

But, thankfully, his brother was gone for the weekend to meet up with an old friend down in Macon. Michonne thought the break from Merle was a good thing, especially when the day of riding around town on his new bike had relaxed Daryl so much.

Walking into his small house, she noticed the differences right away from the last time she'd been there. She detected a slight smell of cigarettes and it lacked Daryl's usual minimalist style; he normally kept the few things he owned put away and out of sight. Across the living room, she caught the half-used ashtray and empty beer bottles on the coffee table. There were plates in the sink and random pieces of mail and newspaper on various surfaces. This had to be driving Daryl nuts.

Yet she'd missed being in his home; it was a cozy place and it suited him. Originally, he'd worried she wouldn't feel comfortable in his rustic little trailer when she had so much space of her own. If only he'd seen some of the places she'd lived in during college and law school.

Daryl dropped the apples they'd picked up onto his counter and flipped through the mail he'd brought in a moment ago. Michonne likewise placed her bag and jacket onto the counter and joined him in the kitchen. Hugging him from behind, she molded herself against his body and kissed his shoulder.

"Can't never get enough 'a me, can ya?"

"Mmm, never," she replied. "You looking forward to tonight? We haven't seen Rick in a while. Glenn and Maggie are stopping by too."

"Yeah, Carol told me. Rick's still so damn broken up over this Lori thing. It'll be good to see 'em, take his mind off 'a that for a little while."

She murmured an agreement and moved to lay her cheek against his shoulder, closing her eyes to his slight inhales and exhales. "Are you sure you're okay seeing Andrea again too." His muscles tensed at the mention of her but he willed himself to relax.

"I aint gon' start nothin' if that's what ya mean."

"That's not what I meant." He'd calmed down about her involvement with Andrea, especially when he figured out they weren't planning on running up on Philip with guns blazing. Instead, Andrea agreed to lay low for a bit, let her P.I. finish his investigation. But Andrea had never been good about pacing herself. Michonne hoped she wouldn't do anything stupid.

Daryl shifted around and returned her embrace. "We'll play nice. Don't worry 'bout that."

She leaned into him, giving him a hearty squeeze. "Thank you." Rubbing his back in comfort, she felt a warm brush of his lips to her temple. Turning her head up to him, she gave him a proper kiss. He immediately deepened it and they proceeded to taste each other, an indulgent melding of lips and tongues peppered with the occasional satisfied moan. She grinned against his mouth when she felt his hands wander down from her waist to grip her backside. He did love that move.

"Mmmm, how did we slip into this kind of mood so quickly?"

He'd shifted down to track his mouth along her cheek and neck. "Don't know but I aint heard no complaints so I'm 'a keep goin'." She gasped as he reached up to cup one of her breasts and continued to feast on her body; he had a way of eliciting such uninhibited responses from her. And the security of sensing that desire for him had the pleasant side effect of curbing his hesitation.

Running her hands through his hair, she slid her lips along his cheek. "So if I have any complaints, you'll knock it off?"

"Depends," he said raising his head. "Might need to get Dr. Daryl on it if it's serious." He didn't bother to hide his leer.

Michonne chuckled at the callback. "Ah. So this is what Dr. Daryl gets into when he's off duty. I wasn't aware that he did house calls. I thought he was emergency services only."

"Got me a new patient so I'm makin' an exception." He pecked her lips, moving to her cheek. "I suppose you gon' have to tell me where it hurts though." He nipped at her ear. "Or maybe you gotta show me. Might have somethin' for it." She shivered over his whispered words in her ear and saw how that had him grinning like a fool. He dropped his hands back to her waist and pulled her harder against him.

Peering into his eyes, she revealed her arousal, a seductive smile tugging at her lips. "Look who's getting bold?" He dropped her gaze and pulled back a bit, suddenly nervous that he'd done something to embarrass himself. Michonne didn't let him get too far though before she lifted his chin with a finger and forced him to meet her eyes again. "I like it," she purred, kissing him softly. "And, Dr. Daryl, I think I might be more interested in showing you where it doesn't hurt instead."

"Might have somethin' for that too." Eyes smoldering, Daryl attacked her mouth again getting his fill of her.

Not bothering to hide her amusement, Michonne laughed heartily. "I bet you will. But then Dr. Daryl can't see the girls anymore because that'd be too weird." Daryl shrugged, undeterred as she rubbed his back and nuzzled into his neck. "Now, how about a shower?"

Daryl didn't have to be prompted twice. With his hand already pulling at her shirt, he backed her up into the hallway, bouncing against the refrigerator and the walls as he went. Her giggles were met with frustrated growls of urgency that only made her laugh harder.

The sound of the locks disengaging and the door opening made them both freeze.

"Fuck! Daryl said, tensing up but not letting go. Rather, he moved from their embrace and stepped in front of her as if to offer protection. Michonne couldn't imagine that being necessary but didn't protest as she readjusted her clothes.

So much for stalling the inevitable.

She didn't know what she expected from Daryl's brother but when Merle walked through the door, what she actually saw didn't seem surprising. He was an older man, muscled and solid. Hard-looking in that ex-military kind of way. The clothes that hung off his body were rumpled and slightly soiled, presumably remnants of a long ride on his motorcycle. His unshaven cheek formed a frown and then a wicked grin at realizing the full scene in front of him. It wasn't a particularly welcoming greeting.

"Well, well, well. Look who we got up in here." He slammed the door behind him and Michonne could feel his stony eyes taking her in, sweeping up and down her body and lingering in places that had Daryl fuming.

"Merle if you start some shit, I fuckin' swear—"

"Simmer down, little brother. Can't a man even walk in the door without you jumpin' down his throat?"

"Whatever. You aint even supposed to be here right now."

"I must be confused then," he said, his strained laughter increasing the tension in the room. "Thought I saw my parole officer last week. I didn't know I needed a goddamn permission slip to get into my own house."

"My house," Daryl corrected.

Merle smiled. "What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine. That's what family's for." He turned his attention back to Michonne. Throughout the exchange, she'd simply stared between the two men, not intimidated but also not willing to get involved. "Aint ya gonna introduce me to your girl?"

Daryl glared suspiciously but made a reluctant introduction. Not getting much enthusiasm from either brother, Michonne took the initiative, stepping from around Daryl and offering her hand. "Nice to meet you." Merle sized her up again, not altogether friendly but not necessarily with any malice. He took her hand and let the contact linger as he continued to rake her over with his eyes.

"Not bad. I guess if you gon' get you a taste 'a the dark side, you might as well make it count for somethin'."

Michonne rolled her eyes and backed up, watching Daryl's eyes narrow on his brother as he retook her hand. "Jesus, Merle!"

Merle raised his hands in defense, stumbling backwards. "What? It was a compliment." It became painfully clear at that point that Merle wasn't exactly sober. "Didn't mean to interrupt your little rendezvous. Thought you'd be out with your Rainbow Coalition."

Daryl's grip on her hand tightened at those words. "I don't know why I ever expect you to be halfway decent to folks." His words were weary and disappointed. "You aint gotta like nobody I spend my time but you can at least show some respect when you sittin' in my house.

"What you talkin' 'bout 'show some respect?' I aint said nothin' 'bout you or your little fuck buddy."

She thought Daryl was going to snap her fingers as hard as he was squeezing at hearing that.

"And ya know good as me that respect is earned and I don't know your friends for shit. As your brother, I gotta right to look after ya. Make sure these bitches that come sniffin' 'round ya is worthy of a Dixon." His slurred diatribe fueled a snarky derision. "Sides, I got me some questions about you two lovebirds. You been runnin' 'round town sittin' all pretty with your job and your good deeds and do-gooder pals. Maybe it's time to find me a chocolate delight, you know, let good ole Merle put a little cream in her coffee." He turned to Michonne, feigning sincerity. "You got any recommendations?" He cackled at that like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Unbelievable. She wasn't shocked by the inappropriate insults so much as disgusted by how cliché his jabs were. It didn't seem possible for him to be more of a walking stereotype. And Daryl was seething, probably about to completely lose his temper and punch Merle in the face.

All in all, this meeting was playing out about as well as she expected.

Brushing off the man in front of her, Michonne moved to grab her bag and jacket. She needed to get Daryl out of here before things escalated. "Why don't we head out early and wait for the others to join us."

"Now hold on, girlfriend," he mocked. "I don't mean to run y'all off. Stay a while and play." He toddled over and patted Michonne on the head like a puppy.

That was going too far.

Before Daryl could react to the slight, she reached for his hand and twisted it behind him, oblivious to his clear height and weight advantage. He wasn't coordinated enough to counter her moves due to his tipsiness and her speed. Daryl simply crossed his arms at the scene and scowled down at his older brother who was howling in pain.

In the back of her mind, she wondered at her track record of drunken assholes who thought they could put their hands on her. Unfortunately for Merle, she'd gotten back into her weight training after that unpleasantness with Andrea's boyfriend. These kinds of bastards took her for some dainty woman they could harass and she rather enjoyed making them sorry for the assumption.

She yanked Merle's arm to get his attention. "Don't you ever touch me. I will break your fucking hand off and you can spend the rest of your life wiping your ass with a stump. Understand?"

"Damn, girl, I got it. Shit!" With one last squeeze, she released him and threw him down to his knees. Merle clamored to his feet and instead of reacting with rage, he simply rubbed at his wrist and laughed.

"Wooo! Little brother, you found ya a feisty one." He leered at her again. "I kinda like it."

"I aint gon' warn you twice about this bullshit. Michonne may take your hand off but I'll fuckin' kill ya," he said, matter of fact. Merle dismissed the threat as if he heard that kind of thing everyday. "What the hell are ya even doing here, Merle? You're supposed to be out with that asshole buddy 'a yours in Macon."

For whatever reason, that set Merle off. "Hey," he said pointing aggressively at his brother and swaying with each word. "He's _my_ asshole friend so don't you go talkin' shit. Not when you been cattin' around with your pretty little Nubian princess and your fancy new friends. Ever since I got back ya act like you too good to be with your own kind. Can't that much've changed since I been gone. You the same white trash Dixon I am so don't go puttin' on airs and tryin' to act like you're better than me."

Daryl's fists clenched. "Bein' with my own kind? 'Cause a lot 'a good that's done us. Listen to yourself, Merle. Aint nobody talkin' 'bout being better than you." His gesticulations got wilder the more agitated he became. "If you got problems, work 'em out but don't go blamin' me for 'em. Comin' in my house drunk and talkin' shit about my woman. I should beat your ass into the ground for that."

"Hmph. You would do that to your own brother, wouldn't ya?" His tone turned even nastier as he wavered in front of them. "Got ya a good gig playin' house with your new affirmative action family with a couple 'a kids and probably a fuckin' dog and a goddamn PTA membership. What you expect gon' happen when you roll through here with your little girlfriend? You been hidin' her like I'm some monster or somethin'. Your other friends too. What am I supposed to think?" He staggered towards the sitting area, almost muttering to himself. "Didn't invite _me_ out with ya tonight, did ya? Can't have ole Merle there remindin' all your high and mighty friends where ya came from. Maybe they gon' kick ya outta the club when they find out the piece of shit skeleton you got hidin' in your closet."

Michonne was unimpressed with Merle's emotional blackmail. She'd seen it so many times from her own family. Daryl made plenty of time and sacrifices for Merle and his inability to appreciate that frustrated her on Daryl's behalf. If Merle really gave a shit, he'd want what was best for Daryl, lift him up rather than hold him back.

Whether Daryl was in a place to consider that angle was a whole other matter. He seemed more moved by Merle's admissions than Michonne but Merle was his family not hers so it wasn't her place to tell him how to feel about it.

Taking a step towards Merle, Daryl uncrossed his arms and tried to push down his anger. "Look how ya talk to people when I bring 'em 'round. Why you think I keep folks away? Didn't take ya five seconds before you were insultin' Michonne with your ignorant bullshit. You can't even pretend to be a decent fuckin' human being, not even for me."

That seemed to get to Merle since he went quiet for a moment and then stumbled into the couch, falling down in a heap. "I aint no saint but I aint no damn demon either. I know you expect the worst outta me. Can't blame ya most 'a the time. What do I gotta do to get a second chance, huh? You tryin' to tell me you was always a perfect angel with your new friends? I aint even been on the streets that long and you already writin' me off."

Glancing at Daryl, she saw the pain and conflict in his eyes as he took in Merle's words. Even at his worst, Daryl had a tremendous amount of loyalty to his brother and this test of that bond proved difficult for the both of them it seemed. She didn't think it was Daryl's responsibility to make his brother better. Yet knowing him as she did, knowing what he'd been through this past year, she realized he'd take it on himself anyway. She hoped it wouldn't end up burning him down the road.

On one level she wanted to go to him and comfort him, maybe get him out of this toxic conversation. However, there was something important going on between the two and it felt wrong to interfere with it. Whatever the next move, it was his call to make.

"Me getting' my life together was about me makin' that choice. If ya wanna piece 'a that too, that's on you. Ya gotta stop fightin' with people and callin' 'em names and shit just 'cause you scared you gon' get left behind. You right 'bout one thing—respect is earned 'round here. You want me to trust ya 'round the folks that helped me get my shit togther? You show me you 'gon treat 'em right and put your ignorant bullshit behind ya. You can't do that then you may as well get the fuck over it." He turned to her and reached for his keys on the counter. "C'mon Michonne, let's go."

She paused at hearing his challenge to Merle, both worried and proud. The man was serious and Merle sensed that too.

"Wait," Merle called out. "Can't we work this out?" Turning to Michonne he pleaded, "Nothin' I said was personal. Hell, I aint got no clue why I do the things I do sometimes."

Michonne could sense Daryl's struggle over how to respond to his brother and she again thought of the strained relations with her own family. She understood what he was going through in a lot of ways. "It's okay if you wanna stay and talk things over with him."

Daryl sighed and shook his head. "Naw, I'll deal with him when he sobers up," Daryl said loudly so Merle could hear him. "Aint changin' my plans just 'cause he's sorry he's bein' a dick." Turning to his brother, he watched as the older man slumped on the couch and leaned over. "Where's your bike?"

Waving it off, Merle reached in his pocket and threw the keys on the table. "Left it at Hank's. I scrapped the trip to Macon and we hit up the bar instead. Didn't wanna catch no DUI."

Daryl scoffed. "That's the only bit 'a sense come out 'a your mouth since you walked through that door. Stay your ass here and sleep it off."

Merle scowled and then winced as his head bumped against the armrest. "You aint my daddy," Merle whined defiantly, even as he stretched himself out and closed his eyes. Like this, he seemed more the petulant child than the angry redneck of a few minutes before. "Go on then. Get out and leave me in peace."

Stopping to allow Michonne to retrieve her jacket and purse, Daryl guided her out of the house. She fished out her keys as they approached her car but Daryl stopped her. "You mind if I drive?"

Normally, she'd be apprehensive about riding with someone as hyped up as Daryl was right now. However, she got the sense that he needed this, a sense of control and preoccupation after the confrontation with his brother. She handed the keys over but held onto his hand, wrapping the other around his waist in a hug. He put his arms around her, resting his head against her shoulder. After a few moments, she squeezed him and pulled away, kissing him on the cheek as she moved to the passenger side of the car.

He pulled the car out and got on the road, the radio a soft serenade as they chased the setting sun. As the minutes stretched on, Michonne saw the tension ease and the clench to his jaw lessen.

Michonne reached over and rested her hand on his knee. "Don't even think about apologizing for him. He's a grown man." Daryl held her hand in his, careful to secure his hold on the steering wheel with the other one. "It could have been worse, she offered with a slight grin, staring straight ahead. Daryl glanced over at her, his skeptical expression bordering on comical.

"Think about it. We got that milestone out of the way and there were no punches thrown." Daryl groused about that and she shrugged. "I didn't punch him, I just restrained him. Forcefully." That got a small grin out of him and he brought her hand to his lips for a light kiss.

"I also have to give him credit for his creative use of bigoted metaphors. I thought he'd go with the traditional set of insults but he really surprised me with his variety."

Daryl did laugh at that, letting out a calming breath. "Gotta be good at somethin' I suppose. At least he's with me on gettin' the girls a dog."

"And that should be your sign of what a bad idea it is." She scoffed at the recent memory. "Nubian princess," she repeated. "I'm a Nubian queen as far as he's concerned," she disputed.

Daryl shook his head, still chuckling. "Somethin' aint right with you," he gestured, fingers circling at his temple. "Like somethin's gone wrong in the head. You know that, right?" She reached over and nudged him in the arm with her free hand.

She leaned back against the headrest. Through the window, she watched the scenery pass by beyond Daryl's profile. "It's a shame it went down like that but maybe he'll come around. Don't give up on him just yet. He's adjusting. And obviously he feels pressured and jealous of you." Even with that awful encounter fresh in her mind, she didn't think Merle was a monster, contrary to the man's assumptions. There was a thread of sympathy for him, both as Daryl's only family and also for someone getting their bearings after being incarcerated for a time.

Daryl thought about that for a bit. "I aint gonna give up on 'em. Aint gonna cut 'em no more slack though." They finally reached the main highway and Daryl let himself settle back a little in the seat, gaining more composure the farther away from Merle they got. "I guess you go through this kinda thing with your clients, them shootin' their mouths off and you havin' to clean up after 'em."

Michonne winced. "Yeah. Don't remind me." She glanced over at Daryl once more, still holding her hand and stroking her skin every once in a while. He'd just gone through one of the more traumatic interactions he'd had in a while and she didn't want him to think he was alone on this kind of thing.

If comforting him meant she had to face some of her past demons, she owed him that after what he'd been through.

"Actually, I learned all about that from my own family." Daryl's surprise was expected and it almost shut her down. However, she realized the significance of seeing this moment through. "My mom, well, she struggled a lot when I was growing up."

How her mother had struggled was a conversation for another day.

"When you're young, you just want everything to be okay and you make excuses for people or cover up for them. Not everyone in the family is going to take well to that. So after a while, I learned distance and how to protect myself."

It felt strange and terrifying to make that admission. But it didn't feel wrong. In fact, there was a satisfaction to sharing this information with him. Daryl especially could understand better than anyone she'd ever known. Acknowledging this kinship with him, she added, "I'm sure you know something about that." He was so quiet that she wondered if he was cross with her for not sharing something like this sooner, an important aspect of her life they could have bonded over. She started to doubt her intentions. But Daryl squeezed her hand and intertwined their fingers more tightly.

"Aint we a pair." When she braved a peek at his reaction, she saw that he was strangely calm, almost relieved, a small smile playing at his lips.

He'd been waiting for her to open up to him.

There was no further discussion of either's dysfunctional family. Instead they reveled in their comfortable connection, trust mutually given and received at last. Taking these first steps made her feel as if they could really do this. She truly believed it without fear or exception.

And embracing this trust meant that they could build any future they wanted.

TBC …


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Walking through the door, all the old, familiar signs of a good bar surrounded him: the low buzz of conversation with an occasional outburst from somewhere in the room, music not too loud and a crowd that was about minding its business rather than causing trouble. And it had been a while since Daryl passed through this particular bar, not since he, Rick and Carol had swung by after a particularly stressful evening at the shelter. That had been right after Rick's marriage broke up but before Carol spent most of her evenings running out of the office to be with Tyreese.

And, of course, he had his own comfortable distractions to keep him busy, one involving the company of the woman beside him.

Taking a look around, he recognized a few faces, even after all this time, including a guy he'd known from a construction job he'd worked on earlier in the year. The man acknowledged him before returning to his conversation. It was best that he avoided small talk anyway, his nerves still frazzled after his ordeal with Merle. Besides, he and Michonne hadn't had dinner and he'd probably hold onto his bad mood until he put something into his stomach.

He was trying to let go of the anger over his brother's outburst with only modest success. He would never understand why Merle needed to stir things up and make things ten times harder than it needed to be. It was like if he wasn't happy then couldn't nobody be happy, especially Daryl. But treating Michonne the way he did crossed the line, the worst part being that it confirmed Daryl's anxieties of how things would go down with them. It was why he'd kept them apart until he could figure out how to handle it. For Merle, hearing initially that this woman Daryl spent so much time with was actually an "uppity black bitch" as he'd called her, well, that had signaled the firestorm that had finally been unleashed in his personal life. Merle had already been suspicious of Michonne, thinking she was trying to take his place with Daryl. He probably never had any intention of accepting her, even if she'd been the queen of the trailer park.

Yet he wasn't cold-hearted or deaf to how his brother was struggling right now. He didn't want to cut Merle off. If only his brother would just accept that all these new people in his life, including Michonne, made things better for him. It didn't mean that he'd ever leave Merle behind—at least, not unless Merle forced his hand on it.

With everyone congregating together tonight, Daryl figured he'd try to brush off the whole thing and simply enjoy himself. Who knows when the group would get another chance to hang out? Tracking a waitress who carried a big tray filled with burgers and chili fries, the rumbling in his stomach had Daryl hurrying Michonne to the back so they could order some food. But someone sitting at the bar nursing a beer caught his eye and he stopped abruptly.

It was Rick and he looked like hell.

Daryl's hesitation had caught Michonne's attention and then she noticed Rick too. Exchanging worried glances, they detoured to where their friend sat brooding.

For a man with heightened instincts and a pretty reliable grasp of his surroundings, Rick seemed a million miles away. His hair and clothes were disheveled and there was a shadowed tension to his downcast eyes. The defeated slump to his shoulders gave the appearance of almost lying over the bar as he twirled his beer every few seconds, a steady motion to accompany his dark thoughts. He hoped nothing had happened with Lori and the baby or with Carl either. If that were the case, though, he figured Rick would be with them and not drowning his sorrows at the bar with his friends.

When Daryl laid a hand on his shoulder, Rick jumped at the contact, more surprised than perturbed. "Hey man, what's up?"

Rick barely reacted to the question. He opened his mouth to respond and then thought better of it. Instead, he shook his head before taking a long pull at his beer.

"Why don't we go grab a table over there," Michonne offered, coaxing him off the stool and steering them away. He complied easily enough and followed after her to an empty area in the corner. Daryl signaled to the bartender and ordered drinks for himself and Michonne, sure that they would need it to deal with whatever they were about to learn from Rick.

Michonne was shedding her jacket and situating herself next to Rick when Daryl finally slid into the chair across from her. Rick remained listless and distant. Before either Michonne or Daryl could form the right question to ask him, Rick ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Shane's dead."

Two sets of widened eyes turned to him, questioning. No one had seen Shane since everything went down with him and Rick. That wasn't any skin of Daryl's back since he and Shane weren't all that friendly to start with. But dead? That's something that was truly coming out of nowhere. Still, no matter what went down between the two men, Rick was going to need his friends rallying around him to deal with this. As if on cue, Rick buried his face in his palms. He stayed that way for a few moments, Michonne leaning in to put a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

Daryl had to push down the flare of annoyance, his residual jealousy over the two rearing its head. He'd gotten over it anyway. Mostly.

Rick raised himself back and leaned onto the table. "I got a call in the middle of the night from my friend that lives a few towns over. Shane'd been workin' security at this place out there, at some kind of bar or club or somethin'. I guess the story went that Shane's hangin' around after they close up shop and everyone's drinkin' and goin' on. I don't know, some kind of fight broke out and at the end of it all Shane's dead and this other guy's in the hospital."

"Damn." Daryl wouldn't have thought Shane'd go out like that.

"Worst part is can't nobody agree on how it went down. A couple folks say that Shane pulled his gun first and then you got other folks sayin' the other guy was goadin' Shane. And that guy's not sayin' nothin' 'cause he's in intensive care." Rick picked up his beer but then slammed it back down before taking a drink. "It's so goddamn pointless, all of it."

"It usually is when things like this happen," Michonne said at his shoulder. "Whatever was going on between the two of you, he was your friend once and it's a loss. I'm sorry for that."

Nodding, Rick finally took a sip of his beer. "Yeah, he was my friend, once. He was a good guy. Once."

Although he'd only heard bits and pieces of the story, Daryl understood that the falling out had progressed between Shane and the Grimes. Lori had accused Shane of harassing her yet felt conflicted about cutting him out of her life. They still didn't know who the baby's father was, Lori unwilling to risk her pregnancy by testing the child in utero. There'd be dust ups interspersed with periods of calm but it was always an uneasy balance. Rick had been trying to ride things out, doing the best he could under the circumstances.

"Hey man. We're here for ya. Whatever you need, we got your back." Michonne agreed and squeezed his arm before releasing him to thank the waitress for the drink she'd placed on the table. Daryl wasn't sure what else to say. What else needed to be said really?

Fortunately, Michonne was a lot better than he was when it came to this kind of stuff. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

Rick immediately shook his head. "Not really. I'm all talked out. Had to break the news to Lori." He paused, collecting himself. "Had to explain it to Carl too."

Michonne winced. "How'd he take it?"

"It's hard to tell these days with him. He's so confused and angry about what's goin' on with me and his mom. He doesn't even really know how to think about it all and the next thing you know he's gotta deal with the fact that this man he's known all his life is gone forever." Rick sighed. "Lori wanted to keep him close tonight and thankfully Carl understood and let her coddle him."

"I'm sure he's loving that, taking one for the team," Michonne noted with a wry smile.

"You know he is. " Rick's expression softened at the levity of her comment. "He's really growing up, I just wish it didn't have to happen because of all this drama with me and Lori. Anyway, Carol already knows but I'm sure it'll come up later when everyone else gets here. Until then, I'd rather talk about somethin' else." He turned to Daryl. "What's new with you two? You been gettin' this girl on that motorcycle of yours?"

"Every chance I get," Daryl confirmed sipping at his beer. Michonne rolled her eyes. "Had us a spot 'a drama too courtesy 'a my brother."

Rick whistled at that. "Your worlds finally collided. I take it things didn't go so well?"

"Depends on who you ask?" Michonne said, grinning at Daryl. Rick swung his gaze to him, his expression demanding answers.

"Oh we got into it alright. If you're into your brother bein' an embarrassment and your woman givin' him a beatdown then you'd be pretty satisfied."

Shifting his stunned reaction to Michonne, Rick narrowed his eyes at her as she casually sipped her whiskey. "He touched my hair. That's not okay." Her dismissive frankness about it finally got a smile out of the man.

Daryl went on to give him a blow-by-blow of the encounter, eager to get his friend's mind off the terrible tragedy that took over his day. As soon as Daryl and Michonne ordered food, Carol and Andrea showed up followed by Maggie and Glenn shortly thereafter. When everyone had been filled in on what happened with Shane, they all spent a bit of time processing their shock and disbelief, sharing funny memories of him and speaking kindly, despite the turmoil of the past year. Then so as not to let the matter consume their night, they finally moved on to catch up on other things.

And during a side conversation, Daryl told Carol a shortened version of the confrontation with Merle. As expected, she went into protective mode, threatening to go over to his place and lay some truths on his brother. Her enthusiasm was hilarious; even though he tried to talk her down, Daryl was secretly touched by how much she cared about him. When Tyreese finally arrived, a surprise addition, he distracted Carol long enough to take her mind off of the different ways she was planning to run up on Merle.

Hanging out with his friends this way always felt like the best of times, even when part of it meant supporting each other through the hard stuff. Before they came into his life, he'd spent a lot of time alone, usually out exploring the woods, or with people he had to be guarded around, never truly trusting anyone because he'd never had a reason to take that risk. Or he'd be spending his time cleaning up after Merle and putting up with his shit. Back then, it would have been impossible to imagine sitting around joking with this group of people who came from all these different walks of life, some of whom he cared about like family.

Well, everyone except Andrea who he barely tolerated for Michonne's sake.

The group had shifted around as different people arrived and he ended up at the end of the table with Rick, Carol and Glenn. Andrea was sitting across from Michonne at the other end of the table. It was unclear whether Michonne had orchestrated that on purpose; as much as he'd reassured her there'd be no trouble between him and her friend, it was probably best that they didn't test the waters on that truce. He could be fine with her from afar.

Daryl got up to head to the bar for a refill on his drink, gesturing to Michonne about whether she wanted refreshing. She nodded, knowing it would be her last for the evening since she'd be doing the driving later. Glenn ribbed him for not getting his drink preference and Daryl ordered him to get his own damn drink, swiping at him playfully before wandering to the bar.

"Hey Pete, round two," he said, shaking his empty bottle. "And get me a Bulleit Rye, neat."

Pete nodded and reached into the fridge underneath the bar for the beer. "Long time no see, man. You been alright?"

Throwing a few bills on the bar, Daryl smiled to himself. "Yeah, I been good." Hell, good wasn't even the right word to describe how much better things were now that he and Michonne were a thing. Pete's scrutiny revealed that he knew exactly what brand of distraction had kept him away.

"You know what? Gimme a Macallen instead 'a that Bulleit. What the hell."

Pete raised his eyebrows at that. "Macallan? Must be love? But I gotta applaud the good taste." He laughed as he turned to grab the bottle up at the top of the liquor shelving. Daryl offered a full-blown smile at that bit of teasing. It's not like he had much cause to dispute the man's observation.

"Hmm, he's got a point. You don't whip out a drink like that unless you're either trying to impress someone or they've done something really good for you."

Daryl's smile instinctively slid into a frown as Andrea scooted in next to him, waiting to put in her drink order as well. And to think he'd just been thanking his lucky stars that he didn't have to talk to her.

"Just doin' somethin' nice for Michonne that she wouldn't do for herself."

Andrea smiled. "I know. It's sweet." They glanced back at the table and watched as Michonne listened intently to whatever story Maggie and Glenn were telling. It must have been something good since even Rick seemed enthralled.

Andrea turned back to Daryl. "It seems strange being here like this. After all, I technically knew all of you first, even Maggie and Glenn. But now Michonne is a bigger part of the group than I am."

Daryl sipped at his new beer, unclear about what kind of response she was looking for from him. They weren't friends and he wasn't interested in that changing. Pete walked over with Michonne's drink and Andrea ordered a bourbon for herself.

Before he could grab his drinks and leave, Andrea held his arm, urging him to hold off for a moment. "Hey, I just meant that I'm glad she found all of you. Especially you."

He narrowed distrustful eyes at her. "What you goin' on about?"

"What I'm 'going on about' is that I think you're good for my friend and I'm glad that you get to be in her life. I know you don't like me much. I can understand why, although I'm not as bad as you figure."

Daryl wasn't entirely convinced about that. "I aint got no problem with ya as long as you don't pull Michonne into your bullshit. Philip Blake aint been nothin' but trouble for the both 'a ya and I don't want her anywhere near him or his affairs. You wanna go after him, that's your cause. Don't be draggin' Michonne along."

At that, Andrea scoffed, laying down her cash as the bartender delivered her drink. "I don't think you know your girlfriend as well as you think, not when you're saying stuff like that about her. Michonne does what she thinks is right. You don't make her do anything she doesn't want to. Following up on Philip is the right thing to do." Daryl tried to protest but she cut him off. "I get it, Daryl, and so does she. Right now, all Michonne's doing is being a sounding board for me and an occasional source for some law-related information that I don't have access to. I'm the one taking all the risks. She isn't close to this and I intend to keep it that way—and so does Michonne. She's not going to put her family at risk for me or anyone."

To Daryl though, talk was cheap when it was comin' from her. What's to keep her from getting caught under Philip's spell again and then leaving Michonne out in the cold? No, he wouldn't be satisfied until Michonne had nothing to do with any of it.

"That's the thing. Aint no tellin' how close is too close with stuff like this. You think you're on the fringe and the next thing ya know you're right in the thick of it. I don't want that for her."

"You're worried and I respect that. Everything really is going to be okay, however it turns out. And I'm thankful you're looking out for her best interests even if it's at my expense." She took another sip of her drink and fixed her attention directly onto him as if he were this puzzle she couldn't quite solve. "You know, I never would have put the two of you together, much less predicted Michonne would get this serious with someone so quickly. But I'm seeing new sides to her I've never experienced before since she's been with you. Mich' can be so ordered, so independent. It's been nice to see her open up and let herself relax into something. And I know how good you are to her." Andrea's expression turned melancholy. "Mich' has had to hold things together and play the grown up for so long, even when she was married. It's about time that someone came along to take some of that responsibility off of her—or at least is willing to share it."

This piqued Daryl's interest. It's not that he was that psyched to stand here shootin' the shit with Andrea while Michonne's drink cooled. But even if he found the woman annoying, she had information about Michonne that he wanted to hear more about. And he didn't hate her or anything. They'd been square once, before it all got complicated.

"James sounds like he's got it together when it comes to the girls."

Andrea rolled her eyes and leaned heavily on the bar, showing signs of how quickly that bourbon had gotten to her. "Yeah, he's great with the girls. Not so much with Michonne. After a while, things were all or nothing with him and that is not what Mich' wants or needs in her life."

Daryl shifted around to face her. "So you think them splittin' up was his doin'?"

She shrugged. "Who's to say? From what I saw, I wondered if he ever really knew who Michonne was, deep down, you know. They'd known each other a long time before getting together but even though he said he loved how strong she is, at the end of the day, he wanted someone who'd dote on him, make him feel like a man. He wouldn't admit that probably, doesn't mean it's not true." She took another deep swallow of her drink.

Turning that information around in his mind, Daryl considered it a strange thing to expect from Michonne. One of the first things he'd realized about her way back in that courtroom was that no one was the boss of her; he'd grown to love that about her. And even though he wanted to be a part of her life, he had no desire to dominate her. She didn't want to be in charge of him either. She did want to be respected, though, and taken seriously. That came pretty easy to him.

"I guess when you're young, you expect people to change for you," Andrea continued, twirling the ice around in her glass. "Who knows, maybe he's the one who changed and resented Michonne for not changing in the same ways. James was always waiting for her to settle down, waiting until after college and then waiting until after law school and waiting until she settled into her job and they had kids." She laughed harshly. "He must have figured out one day that he'd be waiting forever if he thought Michonne would take a back seat to him. And when he pushed the issue, it all fell apart. I'm sure he loved her in his own way, but besides helping to bring those girls into the world, he wasn't all that good for her. He spent a lot of energy blaming her for expectations he had no business harboring in the first place."

This was the first time really hearing another perspective about what happened between the two. Michonne had made it sound mutual, like they'd simply grown apart.

"Well, I aint tryin' to change her. I like Michonne just fine the way she is."

"I can tell," Andrea replied. "And I told Michonne that too. Just keep being patient with her and she'll slowly let some of those walls down. They're there for a reason and when she trusts you enough to let you in, it'll be worth it. She's an amazing friend; an amazing person, really. If you don't give up on each other, you two could find something special." The way she said that was all mooning and girly and Daryl thought maybe he should get out of this conversation quickly.

Besides, Daryl figured he and Michonne had already found something special. He didn't need Andrea's approval to think so.

His discomfort prompted both of them to glance over to check on their table where their food was just arriving. Michonne returned their stares with a quizzical expression so Daryl grabbed her drink and he and Andrea made their way back across the bar.

"What a night," Andrea said, wisely changing the subject. "I can't get over what happened to Shane."

"Wouldn't say this to Rick, especially right now but can't say I'm surprised. It aint like that guy was winning anybody's popularity contest lately." With a sly humor he added, "Well, except maybe yours."

Andrea grimaced. "Sleeping with him wasn't one of my finer moments, not that I regret it or anything. You guys knew about that?"

"'Course everybody knew. If it don't fall under confidentiality, you know folks gon' talk. Might wanna work on your taste in men, though."

"Yeah, that's what Dale said," she replied

"Then you should listen to 'em. He's a smart guy."

"That he is. He's a fan of yours too."

Daryl ignored her teasing as they approached the group. "Whatever. Shut up and switch seats with me," he ordered with a grin.

No, he wouldn't say they were friends. But maybe he could ease up on her, especially if she was in his corner when it came to Michonne. She smirked at him and took his old seat at the end of the table across from Rick, passing his plate of food over to him.

Daryl put Michonne's drink down next to her and shooed her hand away when she tried to steal a fry.

"I don't think so, babe."

"So stingy," she muttered. "What'd you bring me?" She lifted the glass and sniffed at it before taking a sip. The vision of her, eyes closed and blissed out over the flavor of her drink was a damn fine sight for sure. Reopening her eyes, she turned to him and sighed in contentment. "Nice." She set aside her glass and pulled her bowl of chili closer, sliding her leg along his under the table. "I think I'll let that breathe while I eat. And thanks for clearing the air, by the way." She nodded towards her blonde friend who was talking intensely with Rick and Carol. Tyreese and Glenn were arguing about football and no one was paying him or Michonone any mind. "From what I can tell, you don't seem like you hate her as much as you did when she first came in."

Bumping her knee, he took a sip of his beer. "Never said I hated her and I told her so. As long as she keeps her trouble off your doorstep, we can be cool." He concentrated on the plate in front of him, fiddling with the contents of his burger. "Just want you and the girls to be safe is all."

"Me too." She nudged his leg back and began eating her food. The spicy smell of it drifted over to his side of the table as she stirred and he knew he'd have to get a few bites of that himself. It was his second favorite dish at this bar.

"And thank you for this," she said, motioning to her drink. "It's a nice surprise."

"Thought I'd make your final drink count." He put a few fries at the side of the plate her bowl rested on and then dipped his spoon into her chili in exchange. Although he tried to make it look like an innocent move, she scowled at him nonetheless before dipping a fry into her chili and chewing on it.

"Actually, I haven't had any Macallan since right after we met. I had you to thank that time too."

Amidst the casual enjoyment of the meal, they both grinned at the memory of their first meeting, he so nervous and mistrustful and she determined to win his case on principle. The rest of their friends at the table and the leisurely patrons surrounding them faded away as they reflected on those first tentative steps towards each other. They'd come a long way, from a mutual inconvenience to two people trying to make a romance together work.

"Pete was pretty impressed with me too. Said it must be love if I'm buying you the good, top shelf stuff. Can't say I disagree." Daryl popped a few fries in his mouth, licking each of his fingers afterwards. That move was guaranteed to drive Michonne crazy. Sure enough, her piercing, dark eyes glared at him in playful reproach. He did enjoy riling her up—and so did she, truth be told.

Sure enough, her expression softened into a smile, although she denied him her full attention as she ate. "I know you love me."

"Oh yeah? How do you know that, Miss Smartypants." Of course, he was joking. There was no question that he loved her and she knew that. And she loved him too. They'd made those admissions some time ago and he'd never get tired of hearing it or saying it to her.

She finished her spoonful and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I just know these things. Not only do you love me but you're going to show me how much when we get back to my place. Perhaps over that shower we were planning?"

She finally lifted her eyes to meet his and fixed that intimidating stare upon him. That stare had probably forced hundreds of folks back in line and convinced a hundred more not to act up in the first place. He'd seen that look inspire confidence, elicit terror and otherwise stop people in their tracks. For most, that intense focus meant they were about to have a bad day.

But he knew another side to that expression. If he played his cards right, this day would end pretty well for him after all.

"Sounds about right to me. You got yourself a deal."

TBC …

* * *

**_AN: So sorry for the wait on this update. I've been a bit disjointed and busy after a crazy move halfway across the country. I'm still getting my bearings which has left me only sporadic moments to work on my fics. But I'm hoping to get back on track this week and start posting regularly again. Thanks for your patience. _**


	22. Chapter 22

_**AN: Here's another M rating reminder. It gets steamy in the middle. **_

* * *

**Chapter 22**

As Daryl stumbled into the house, Michonne's snickers cut through the sound of their shuffling bodies and jingling keys. He was still a bit sloppy despite having sobered up some on the ride back from the bar. Judging by the glower on his face, Daryl wasn't quite as amused as she by his lack of coordination.

It was two in the morning and they were both feeling the long day. Daryl shed his jacket and hung it in the hall closet. He let her lock up before turning her around and sliding her jacket off as well, storing it alongside his. Michonne peeked into the darkened kitchen and dimly lit room beyond, checking for anything out of the ordinary. Not noticing anything amiss, she headed up the stairs. Daryl followed and stomped on every step as if each foot weighed a ton.

It still sometimes felt weird to come home to such a quiet house. She liked her adult time plenty but her best days always involved wrangling the girls through their routine, the space quickly filling with happy squeals or patience-testing complaints soon placated. When they were with their dad, she might relish the calmness but she'd always miss the life her children brought to her home.

Thankfully, she still had Daryl who wasted no time reminding her of the comforts he could offer as soon as they stepped into the bedroom.

"Recall you sayin' somethin' 'bout a shower a while back? Or was that just you talkin' big?" he asked, pulling her to him after she dropped her purse on the chair. "We had us a deal and I got me some good lovin' to lay on ya." It was kind of charming, this messy, tipsy side to his attraction

"No, I was serious about that shower." She leaned up into him for a quick kiss. "You're not getting in my bed without one."

"Fair enough." He tried capturing her lips again for another taste of her as he worked his hands underneath her shirt to remove it. However, Michonne stepped back and tried not to laugh when his lust turned to disappointed frustration.

"Why don't you go get us started? I need to check the phone messages and then I'll be right there." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I swear. It was my idea, remember?"

He took a few steps towards the bathroom, lifting his shirt as he went. "Alright but don't be takin' forever and a day. I got plans. Been thinkin' 'bout 'em on the ride back."

"Oh yeah? Was that while you were drunk-singing to the classic rock station or when you dozed off for half an hour?" Smiling at his sheepish retreat, she went to grab the cordless phone and notepad she kept by the bed.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he called from the bathroom. "All you gotta do is show up and enjoy."

"I wouldn't miss it," she yelled back. Catching his occasional fumbling in her line of vision, she added, "And do not put those filthy clothes on my floor. Put them in the hamper and I'll wash them in the morning."

"So you're my mom now?" His tone was grumpy but she watched him do as she asked before unbuttoning his pants.

Although she was hoping that people would delay any crucial business until after the holiday, her syncopated dial tone indicated that she indeed had messages. It was surprising that anyone was even around over the long weekend. She erased the message from her dry cleaner letting her know she could pick up her suits on Tuesday morning. As Daryl turned on the shower, she scrawled down the number to the exterminator who wanted to reschedule her appointment. The mom of one of Ursula's friends called to confirm a play date for later in the week but Michonne had already responded to her by email. By the time she reached the last message, she could faintly hear Daryl humming to himself in the shower, using the alone time to actually wash himself before she came in to happily distract him. She grinned in anticipation.

Seconds later, dread surged as she recognized the sound of her sister's voice.

She listened to the message and then listened to it again, frowning at the words used and the tone accompanying them. Instead of playing it back a third time, she deleted the message and hung up. It was always something with her. For a few moments she didn't know how to think about what she'd heard or even form a response for when she inevitably had to call her sister back. So she simply held herself still, silent and brooding with her phone in hand.

The sounds of Daryl waiting in the shower for her seemed so far away as she stood alone in the dark room.

The rush of her emotions began to subside and she shook herself out of that stupor, not willing to let the bitterness percolate when she had better things to occupy her thoughts. She'd long ago quit letting her family drama disrupt her life. Rather, she went towards a nearby comfort and followed it to its source: the man who'd committed a discrete act of defiance against his own family tonight, partly due to his love for her. He deserved some consolation for that and her full attention.

Removing her dusty, sweaty clothes, she grabbed an extra towel for later and then tied back and covered her hair. She'd have to wash it soon after being in that smoky bar, but not tonight. While she was standing there, she also threw a few stray items into the hamper so as not to forget them while doing laundry tomorrow.

A knock at the glass shower door returned her attention to the man across the bathroom. "Michonne, stop draggin' your feet and get your ass in here." And the sight of him standing there, hair slicked back and soapy while the water cascaded down his naked body, it left no room for hesitation. The heated response in his eyes as she stalked towards him filled her with satisfaction, a sensation that intensified when he welcomed her into his arms a moment later.

At first, they played a bit, kissing and touching around the splashing water. They tested out the space and how much room they had to work with given the business both had in mind. Michonne scrubbed his back for him and hen pushed him into the spray of the showerhead to rinse him off, smoothing his short, spiked hair to keep it from dripping into his eyes. Daryl pulled her hands from around him and began kissing along her wrist and down her arm, grunting in disapproval when Michonne twisted out of his grip. But she really did need to wash after spending the day running around toy stores and forests and soaking up all the unsavory elements floating around a bar.

"That aint right, Michonne. I'm tryin' to love on ya and you're drivin' me crazy instead," Daryl whined.

"Can you blame me for wanting to get clean?" she asked, soaping up her washcloth.

"Naw, can't blame ya but what've I told ya 'bout askin' for help?" Turning the tables on her, he grabbed the washcloth from her, brushing his lips against her neck as he started to do the honors.

And he was very thorough. Simultaneously cleansing and teasing, he made sure every angle of her got his attention.

At one point, he dragged the washcloth along the back of her shoulders, wringing out the soapy fabric and then following the lines of suds as they trickled down her back. He did the same thing at her front, circling her breasts with leisurely movements. Raising her arms up for him, she leaned back against his body and loosely gripped his neck, finding his mouth waiting to offer further affection. His hands wavered as she distracted him with her lips and tongue. Soon after, his touch relaxed and his focus drifted down to her stomach where he attempted to continue his task. He'd idly clean her as his other hand encouraged the splashing water to rinse the soap lingering along her breasts.

Finally, he tossed the washcloth and reached for what he really wanted. His hands drifted to stroke her center, knowing just where and how to touch her so that she completely forgot herself. She whimpered into his mouth at the pleasure of it.

"Now that's what I been wantin' to hear all night," he muttered breathlessly in her ear.

Instead of responding, she kissed him once more while getting lost in that familiar, pulsing bliss they found with each other. She barely sensed him pull away, adjusting the showerhead before he lowered himself down and put his tongue to good use elsewhere.

When she tossed her head back in abandon, she was briefly thankful for the cushion of her hair against the marble. And then she spent the next few minutes solely thankful for Daryl's talent and enthusiasm. It was going to be fun returning the favor—as soon as she recovered from this incredibly hot foreplay he'd committed himself to.

But Daryl decided that there were other things he wanted to explore. So he casually rose to his feet as if he hadn't just had her on the brink, leaving her gasping and so tensely aroused. Even more frustrating was that when she tried to reach for him or touch him, Daryl maneuvered her away, continuing to stimulate her body as he saw fit. In a burst of impatience, she pushed him into the stream of water behind him and attempted to strong-arm him into letting her have some fun. He simply caught her arms and held them behind her as he shoved her back onto the cool marble wall; warm droplets of water peppered her skin around the silhouette of his body. A lusty, truncated power struggle ensued with Daryl pressing himself fully against her to thwart her meager efforts to buck away from him and take control.

Sliding his cheek along hers, he shushed her, hot breath ghosting along her damp skin to finally reach her ear. "Uhuh, babe, I got this. We had a deal and I'm 'a do the showin' 'round here tonight." He ground provocatively into her to emphasize his point. His dominance and the taunt of his erection were a tantalizing distraction.

"Mmm, I'm gonna have to get you drunk more often," she purred, pushing back into him.

"Don't need no booze for this. Only you." He licked at the crook of her neck and she moaned her approval. He switched sides and kissed back up to her ear.

She turned her head to face him as they continued their sensual friction against each other. "I love you," she whispered into his ear. His reply was to kiss her shoulder, then her neck, and return his lips to her mouth for another thorough taste of her, groaning lustily at the feel of her tongue sliding against his.

"Say it again," he requested, pulling from their kiss and resting his head against hers.

"Mmm, I love you," she complied, eyes closed and smiling.

She took in his clean scent and cool breath, so close and accessible. She'd been the one to playfully demand this dramatic display of his affection. Yet, right now, he was taking it completely seriously. Opening her eyes, she stared into the unguarded depths of his baby blues, knowing that she was the only one that got to see him like this and was maybe the only person who he had ever looked at this way.

Michonne thought about the day they'd had, the ups and downs and twists, the stress he'd endured and decisions he'd have to face come sun up. They were forging a new bond in terms of trust and these moments were the ones she never second-guessed.

She kissed him again, still absorbing his achingly sincere stare. "I love you, Daryl."

He needed this, a sense of service and reverence, a validation that, with her, he could do what felt right to him and it would be exactly what she wanted. And she realized that she desired for him to take that control so she could surrender to it, a grand gesture of her confidence in him. There had been too many people in her life she couldn't count on but he wasn't one of them. He'd proven to her in so many ways that she could rely on him.

So that's what she did.

She relaxed as he devoured her mouth and released her hands to fondle various parts of her body. She gave no resistance when he turned her around to lean against the shower wall. And the crescendo of her unfiltered cries were the only reply as he held her from behind, one arm wrapped around chest and the other gripping her hip as he plunged into her. When he felt she wasn't being loud enough in her appreciation he'd find some new way to fuel her arousal, his teeth against her skin or his fingers stimulating some long-discovered erogenous zone or sensitive cluster of nerves. She stretched an arm up to claw at the shower wall as if that would keep her knees from buckling underneath her.

Again she tossed her head back, uncaring about the falling water or tight quarters restricting their movements. The feeling of him surrounding her and inside of her remained an overwhelming sensory experience that she never wanted to end. Her anguished pleas encouraged him to drive harder into her and he'd gasp her name when her uncensored reactions to him became too much. He rested his head against her shoulder, growling his approval at her submission and placing steamy kisses at her nape. Even though his thrusts were relentless, he touched her as if she were precious, always handling her with care no matter how intense their sex got. And he worshipped her body until they both almost collapsed from the weight of their shared passions.

They let the water cascade against them for a while to enjoy the balmy aftermath of their lovemaking. Daryl held her and caressed her, their tired limbs supporting each other until they reluctantly turned off the tap to rejoin the real world. She steered them from the small, marble and glass enclosure; they were both flushed and damp from more than just the shower. As she dried his hair, he wrapped a towel around her to wipe away the stray moisture from her body.

He didn't prod her for words of approval or praise. They both knew he'd delivered on his end of their bargain.

Pecking him on the lips, she threw her towel at him before disappearing into the closet to fetch some clothes, tossing a few articles his way. She opted for just a camisole and underwear since she tended to get hot at night, especially with Daryl's warm body beside her. Before plopping on the bed, she pulled back the covers, then yawned and stretched out her tired muscles.

"What in the world are two old people like us doing up at this hour?"

Daryl emerged from the bathroom, dressed for bed and still rubbing at his damp hair. "Who you callin' old? You give me a few minutes and I'll show you what a spry young buck I am."

Rolling her eyes, she continued with her nightly ritual of moisturizing her limbs before crawling under the sheets. Naturally, her motions held Daryl's interest.

"Don't even try that line with me. In five minutes, you'll be sleeping like a baby."

"We'll see." He climbed into bed and she followed after, switching off the lamp at her nightstand. She could still make out his form in the moonlit room. Always the hunter, he lay on his side watching her movements. She leaned over to offer him a sleepy, satisfied kiss goodnight that he happily accepted.

"You aint even gonna wait the five minutes to see if I'm right?" he muttered.

"If I accept your ambitious assertions of virility will you let it go?"

"Aint no fun in that." She pushed at his shoulder as they both laughed. He went silent and she closed her eyes, content in the comfort of him next to her, breathing softly and probably still staring at her as she fell asleep.

Before she could get into a good doze, she felt his finger glide along her cheek. "Hey, I know you told me not to but I still gotta say sorry for all that stuff with Merle. I don't want nobody talkin' to you like that. It was my house and my brother and I gotta take that hit."

Michonne opened her eyes and tried adjusting to the darkness again to better gauge his mood. "No you don't, Daryl. Merle is responsible for his own actions. And I meant what I said about that situation being inevitable. We had to meet sometime."

"I guess I shoulda stopped being chicken-shit and done it in my own way instead 'a lettin' it go down like that."

Reaching over to rub his arm, she shrugged off his guilt and closed her eyes again. "It is what it is and we'll deal with it. When you meet my family, you'll see that I'm pretty used to unpredictable sibling dynamics that I'd rather avoid." She once more thought about the phone call from her sister and frowned.

If her eyes had been open she would have surely noticed the intensity Daryl focused her way.

"So that's gonna happen at some point?" His tentative words surprised Michonne and her eyes flew open, not sure how to take his question. Was it accusatory or merely curious? She had a terrible filter when it came to dealing with matters concerning her family.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't mean nothin' by it. You haven't mentioned it before." His quiet voice couldn't mask the tension she felt in his body, her hand still on his arm. She went back to stroking him to let him know she wasn't angry at the question. The fact that she was so tired was the only explanation for why she'd even open a can of worms like that without realizing it.

"I don't usually talk about them. But it's been on my mind a little with everything that happened to Merle." She felt she owed it to him to be completely honest. "And there was a message from my sister when we got home and I was planning to sleep on things before I thought about having to respond."

He reached for her, his hand resting at her waist. "Is everything alright?" He propped his head up onto his arm so he could better read her in the dim room.

Now that was a loaded question. Nothing was ever truly alright when it came to her younger sister. The woman could frame the sunniest of scenarios as a crisis of the highest order.

Taking a few moments to think of how to answer that, Michonne wondered if she was really going to do this. Just the little bit she'd revealed earlier in the car had her pushing off this conversation to some undisclosed time in the future. Was she ready to share the most dysfunctional and contentious part of her life with the man next to her? Would it scare him off? Probably not. Daryl didn't spook easily and he was one of the few people she'd ever met that could understand what she'd gone through.

But would he look at her differently after she laid these cards on the table?

Michonne sighed, knowing she'd gone past the point of side-stepping the issue. "Nothing's wrong really. She called because she's always trying to get the family together for the holidays and she wanted to know if I would bring the girls for Thanksgiving. She lives down in Florida along with my mom and dad.

"My mom's been in a home for a while. She's in the early stages of dementia and she sometimes doesn't really remember me when I come visit. But even before, she had a lot of struggles with her mental health. We didn't know as much as we do now about how to manage that so we did the best we could working around her difficulties." Pausing to collect herself, she continued. "It made growing up with her very hard, especially when my older brother and sister spent half my life protecting me from her and then the other half running away and leaving me and my younger sister to deal with things, completely blindsided by the whole situation. And my dad often spent more time in denial rather than protecting his kids when she wouldn't take her medication or was having a bad spell. My older sister now lives out in California; she sends money but she keeps her distance. And my brother hops from place to place. He's living in Paris right now, I think, and he comes through town to visit from time to time. It's all so complicated," she concluded, blowing out a deep breath.

Daryl moved his arm over to caress her hair as she talked, listening intently to take it all in. "Do you wanna go down and see 'em? Your parents and your sister?"

She wanted to, instead, ask what he thought of all this. Given Daryl's relationship with his brother, she'd expect that he'd want her to be loyal. Even if they aren't good for you, family is family. Perhaps irrationally, she worried that he would judge her harshly for her hesitance to get drawn into family drama but that was surely her own guilt talking.

Michonne's hand now rested on his chest, feeling the steady in and out of his breaths and the occasional beating of his heart. "I don't know what I want. I go see them—my parents—a few times a year. Like I said, my mom usually doesn't know me and my dad has got a whole other life with a girlfriend and everything now that my mom's somewhat institutionalized. I'm more critical of that than I deserve to be. But he's never turned his back on her throughout everything they've gone through together. And my sister is there with them too, always playing the martyr about how she's the only one looking out for them. I hate the idea of dealing with that but I know I should make an effort and I don't want the girls growing up not knowing their family.

"And it wasn't terrible all the time. There was happiness in there too and no one is a villain. Mostly we're all good people trying our best to cope, even my mom. She was a writer, a really good one. And she still writes every day. It's been a real comfort to her as the illness has progressed. She taught me a lot." She sighed as Daryl continued to massage her. "In a way, she taught me how to be strong when the world around you seems so chaotic."

Octavia and Ursula didn't think much of seeing her side of the family either way. They were too young to pick up on the weirdness surrounding everyone's interactions. They only cared that their relatives were nice and everyone did make an effort, including her mom who usually mistook the little girls for other relative's children if she recognized them at all. However, Michonne was always guarded when they were with her. She'd spent her whole life constantly aware that anything could happen at any time—and when it did, it was every person for themselves in their family.

Daryl traced a few fingers along her temple. "You got time to think on it and figure out if it's worth it to ya. And if you want, I'll go with ya. You done already seen the worst 'a my family and I don't think you gon' top that."

She chuckled. "Don't tempt fate like that."

"I'm serious though. And maybe we could do a whole vacation thing, take Urs and Tavi to Disney World. We could do that, then the family thing, and then more Disney World."

"Are you insane? You want to wrestle those two little balls of energy around Disney World for two days?" She was smiling at the images that conjured.

"Hell yeah. We could get into some good fun. It could be like a reward for you spendin' time with your folks. Just think on it."

For not the first time, she thought this man she loved was full of surprises. "I will think about it." Kissing him again, she scooted closer to him for an uncharacteristic cuddle. "You're a good listener. I was worried you'd think I was heartless for turning my back on my family."

"Naw, ya do what ya can. Can't nobody expect more from ya. I get it's hard lettin' other people know about this shit we gotta deal with behind closed doors. But you don't gotta hide it from me. Aint gon' think no worse of ya and I like seein' a little more 'a who ya are, even the tough stuff." He continued to run his hand along her hair, twirling one of her dreadlocks every so often. "You're one of the strongest people I ever met, you know that? You do what ya think is right and protect the folks you care about, even when it aint easy. You take good care 'a your friends and the girls and you take good care 'a me."

"We take good care of each other." She hugged him to her and he squeezed her back at the waist."

She situated herself even more comfortably into him, really burrowing into his warmth as he held her. Closing her eyes, she thought that this wasn't a bad way to end a truly weird day.

"Hey," he whispered into her ear.

"Daryl, go to sleep." She didn't even bother to open her eyes this time.

"But it's been five minutes." He punctuated his suggestion by working his hand inside her camisole to rub her bare back. Their shower sex seemed to have invigorated as much as it lulled her into a satisfied fatigue.

Still not moving, she grumbled into his neck. "You were supposed to have let that go."

He kissed the top of her head. "I know but aint no harm in checkin' back in."

"There might be if you don't let me get some sleep." The breeze of his laughter reached the edge of her cheek.

"Alright then. Love ya anyway."

She giggled. "Me too." He tilted her head up and planted his lips onto hers, only releasing her to curl back into him when he'd gotten enough.

The scent of his shampoo tickled her nose and her leg wiggled in between his to sit more comfortably against him. But the last thing she remembered before falling into a deep slumber was the security of his arms around her and how good this closeness to him felt.

TBC …

* * *

_**AN: I thought I'd throw this last chapter in before I start on my massive back-end editing for the next slew of chapters. I've got a ton backlogged so I'm going to work on them all at the same time. Even though it'll delay things, the updates down the line will be quicker. **_

_**Thanks again for reading and for all the alerts and feedback!**_


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Daryl laughed as he watched Michonne brace herself against the wave of children running by her. They were more interested in chasing after the big man holding a handful of balloons than being mindful of the woman carrying a tray of drinks. When he saw her safely deliver her goods following the stampede, he went back to his task.

He'd been curious and kind of excited about being here for Octavia's party. He couldn't get over how easy it was to get caught up in making it something memorable for this little girl that he cared about. There were more children here than he'd seen in one place in a long time, including Ursula's friends who Michonne invited to make things easier on the parents with multiple kids. They thought Octavia would resist the idea but she'd made it clear that as long as Ursula's "baby stuff" didn't interfere with her friends' good time, she was willing to go along with it.

So now he found himself with a yard full of children on a muggy Saturday afternoon, the mood only barely above controlled chaos.

The sliding doors were open so everyone could go in and out. A few parents were scattered amongst the kids as well, mostly supervising from afar as they chatted amongst themselves. James had joined in the chase with Octavia and her friends, leading to a scatter of kids trying to run down the two men to get to a balloon. Octavia's best friend Ashley finally caught up to James and demanded a balloon for her and Octavia. Then they both ran to Ashley's mom to insist she tie it to their wrists. Ursula was at the cookie and cupcake decorating table having a blast with the icing and sprinkles and sugar accessories. James had stuck Stacy at that table and she was trying to play along even if she kept looking at her watch every few minutes when she wasn't frowning at the messiness around her.

Daryl lingered at the other end of the yard setting up the piñata they would get to work on in a little while. It was actually a nice break from playing games and chasing around the younger kids, letting James do his dad thing and take over with that activity. The party had prompted some nerves along with the excitement, not so much because of the kids but because of dealing with the parents. Several of the adults he knew already from Michonne's Super Bowl party so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It still felt weird being one of those people who cared about play dates and daycare and what everyone thought about this teacher or that afterschool activity.

For someone who spent most of his life minding his own business, it was a switch. And with all the activity of the party, it was easy to forget the slight complication to the day: he was dreading "The Talk" from Michonne's ex-husband.

Things had been really good with Michonne lately and they'd taken their relationship to another level just in the last week. She'd shared more about her past over the course of a few hours than she'd shared the entire time he'd known her. And he could tell that with each detail she offered, the easier it became for her. So Michonne had also finally given her ex the bottom line about the two of them, not that James didn't pretty much know already. She relayed that he hadn't been as big an asshole about the situation as she feared. But he had wanted to clear the air with Daryl personally about what he expected from someone who was becoming so close to his kids.

In fact, the man was wandering over right now and Daryl had to stop himself from tensing up at the inevitable conversation about to happen. He hoped this didn't get ugly. Daryl wasn't looking for any drama but he was also a Dixon and he'd never backed down from a fight in his life.

"Hey, need a hand?" James asked. Daryl didn't, but he figured that wasn't the right answer for this particular situation.

"Yeah, you can hold this line steady while I hook on the thing." He pointed towards the stuffed horse-like object sitting a few feet away. It was the ugliest damned contraption he'd ever seen but Michonne had assured him that uglier was better. James took the thick rope from him and waited for Daryl to get his tools together to attach the final rigging.

"I guess Michonne told you that she filled me in on y'alls … relationship." Daryl didn't respond, just paused to look at the man and went back to his work. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to start stuff. I know we didn't exactly get off on the right foot. I'm just looking out for my girls. I'm sure you can understand that."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at him. He hoped James wasn't including Michonne in that category because that _woman_ wasn't his anymore. One thing he didn't like about James was that it was hard to tell where he was coming from. Daryl was used to handling straightforward folks; James was anything but in their interactions, all bluster and false civility, at least to Daryl's senses.

Daryl didn't get into any of that animosity though. "It's cool." He could tell that James was surprised by the response. He seemed like one of those guys that was uncomfortable dealing with people who weren't like him, educated and cultured, used to talking their way through every damn situation. Knotting the rope, Daryl tested the pull of the rigging and decided it could be tighter.

"The thing of it is, I know you're good with my kids. They rave about you." The latter he stated a bit coldly. It wasn't Daryl's problem that James couldn't drum up the same kind of relationship with the person he'd chosen to be with. "You got kids?" he asked.

"Naw," Daryl responded, unsure about the question. "Just me and my brother, that's the only family I got."

James scrutinized him. "And how does your brother feel about this whole situation you've got working for you with 'Chonne?" Daryl almost rolled his eyes at the nickname, probably a passive aggressive reminder that he'd had his intimacies with the woman now in Daryl's life. And Daryl was supposed to be the primal alpha male of the two? Plus, it was just a bullshit question to ask as if he was trying to put Daryl on the defensive, maybe thinking it would cause trouble between him and Michonne.

Not that he couldn't have easily been right about that.

"I aint gon' lie, he's got his issues on it. But he's got issues in general so it aint worth my time carin' what he thinks. Don't make a bit 'a difference 'bout what happens with Urs and Octavia or with Michonne."

James laughed bitterly about that. "Family issues always have a tendency to worm their way into relationships. Just ask Michonne." He stared Daryl down. "Unless she hasn't mentioned how things are with her family."

What a prick, Daryl thought. There was definitely a part of James that wanted to start some trouble despite trying to deny it.

"Yeah, she told me," Daryl revealed. The casual manner in which he said it left no need to be smug. "Don't change how I feel about her or being here with her and the girls." He gestured for James to take a step back while he let the piñata fall free. He took the rope from the man, gave it a few jerks and then handed it back so he could fiddle with the rigging a bit more.

He'd endure a grilling for the sake of the girls because that seemed like proper parent protocol. But he wasn't gonna let James play mind games about his relationship with Michonne. That wasn't any of his damn business.

"Fair enough," James said. He twisted his hands around the rope, maybe nervous, many angry. Daryl didn't really care. "Like I said, I don't have any problem with you being around my daughters because you're good with them. And I don't want you to take things the wrong way about this conversation."

Daryl figured it was way too late to be crowing about that.

"I didn't mention this to Michonne otherwise she would have bit my head off. I just want to say that you be careful with her. She and I obviously had our problems and still do. But even when things were at their worst, I've always considered her a good person, maybe not good for me or me for her, but she's the real deal. I know she's got sound judgement about who gets to be in her life so if you aren't committed to treating her right then she'll erase you from her world. But she's not the only one you'll have to deal with when shit goes down. Yes, she's got friends looking out for her but her family's checked out and won't watch her back like family should. That leaves me. And I may not look like much but if you fuck up, I'll fuck you up. For her and for my kids. I'll find a way."

Daryl stood slowly to stand in front of James, work forgotten and shock written all over his face. Damn, maybe he had underestimated the man. He couldn't hate on him for watching Michonne's back even if he went about it in the shadiest way possible.

He blinked at the younger man, just as tall as him but definitely scrawnier. Yet the dude was serious as a heart attack. It made Daryl want to chuckle at his posturing but he refrained.

"Fair enough," he repeated. He took the line again from James and watched him step aside as Daryl secured the piñata until they were ready for it.

They walked across the yard together, silent and still tense. The warnings and messages had been sent and received. They'd both gotten out what needed to be said.

"So I heard you got a motorcycle a while back," James commented, trying to cut through the sour mood between them. "I gotta say, I can't exactly imagine Michonne on one. She doesn't even like riding a bike. Hates it about as much as getting in the ocean."

Daryl nodded. "Yeah, she aint one for the water, that's for sure. Gotta say she looks real good on the back 'a my bike though." James wisely kept quiet. "Too bad there aint no room on it for my shotgun," Daryl said, straight-faced.

When James turned to him, eyebrows furrowed in concern, Daryl let a bit of a smirk cross his lips and clapped the man on the back good-naturedly. James may be a pill but that also made him fun to rile up.

Before they could head inside to check with Michonne about what else needed to be done, Ursula came running up, fingers covered in unidentified muck. "Daryl! Come look. I made a bird on my cookie and it looks like you. You come too, Daddy." She reached out to Daryl with her messy hands and James let him take the lead, probably not keen to get his clothes dirty. Daryl had no such reservations. Hell, he saw more dirt and grime on the job everyday than what Urs was carrying.

Instead, he turned her around and picked her up, careful to ensure her extended hands kept away from him or any other guest. "You'd better show me this twin then, Lil Bit. Quick before it flies away."

She giggled. "It can't fly away, silly. It's stuck on the cookie."

"You sure 'bout that?" he said, serious tone catching her attention. "The wind might pick up and that bird there'll remember what it is. Next thing ya know, it's gone." She frowned up at him. "Or maybe somebody might just come along and eat it instead." He sat her back down at the crafts table and she quickly hovered over her creation, either because she believed him about the bird flying away or maybe to keep him from taking a bite. He looked over her shoulder at the cookie in question. Of course, it didn't look anything like him but he thought it was cute that she thought so.

"What's that right there?" He pointed at a blob sitting on what looked like the bird's head.

She touched the detail up with little icing-smeared fingers. That's his hair, Daryl."

"Why does your bird have hair, Urs?"

"So it can look like you." _Obviously_, her tone added without needing to be stated.

"Ah, okay." He smiled over at one of the mom's monitoring the children and Stacy sitting across the table trying to keep her distance from the messy little kids. He felt a hand on his back and turned to see Michonne leaning over to look at the cookie as well, a wet cloth in hand to wipe down her daughter.

Michonne smirked at James who had wandered over to check on his fiancée. "This is your child, you know." She got Ursula cleaned up and asked her to be a little more careful with her decorating so that she didn't ruin her clothes.

"Of course she is," James answered automatically, as if this was the oldest debate in their arsenal of marital conflicts. Daryl laughed but Stacy didn't look terribly amused. Her relief at possibly having someone to rescue her outweighed that though.

"Michonne, do you need help getting the cake ready?" Stacy asked. The woman had been having a very quiet but restrained conversation with James, and Daryl could tell by both their demeanors that whatever had come up, she'd won. He also knew that Michonne didn't need help with the cake so he wondered how she would respond.

Choosing diplomacy, Michonne smiled at the woman's offer. "The cake's all set but you know what would be helpful? I have little party favors for the kids but they're still sitting in a box with the plates and forks and stuff. Maybe you could start setting those aside? That way when we do the cake we won't be scrambling to count everything out." Stacy looked ecstatic to be doing something that didn't involve supervising children.

Michonne turned to him. "Could you show Stacy where everything is while I help wrangle things here?"

"No problem, babe." He nodded to the young lady and led her away from the table. It was both a successful getaway and a nice way for James and Michonne to spend time with their kids together; present a united front or some crap one of those parenting magazines would go on about.

When they got to kitchen, Daryl went to the pantry and pulled out the box in question filled with plates, forks, spoons, napkins and little party toys. He'd gotten to pick out the toys after Michonne gave him a lecture on gender neutrality when he suggested a pink and white color scheme. Instead, their theme was puppies and kittens, the closest she said he was gonna get to having either in her house. She still refused to let him get a dog for Octavia's birthday or Ursula's coming up the following month but he vowed to wear her down by Christmas.

"Here's the stuff we got," he said to Stacy. He'd never really been alone with her and he felt a little weird about it. He wondered if she too thought the scenario was strange.

She reached in and retrieved a little fuzzy animal toy that she turned around in her manicured fingers. "Cute," she said, smiling at him. She then pulled out the plates but left the rest of the items inside. "How many do we need?"

Daryl took a look outside at all the people running around, children and adults. "'Bout twenty-five oughta do ya." He went to the pantry to pull out the candles and place them on the counter by the cake. He heard her flipping through the plates, separating them as she counted them out."

"You seem really good with the kids." Stacy didn't look over at him but he could tell she was tense from the party and that made him uncomfortable. He wasn't trying to babysit her or let her make him feel bad for getting on with Michonne and James' kids better than she did. He couldn't even say why it was so. He'd just thought they were real adorable when he'd first met them that day at the Christmas Tree farm. They reminded him of things that he loved about Michonne, although he hadn't been able to process it like that at the time.

Daryl noticed the trashcan had gotten full and went to take care of it. "Aint no thing really. I just like kids is all."

"Octavia and Ursula love talking about you. They consider you one of their friends." That made Daryl smile.

"It's nice to get down to their level, not worrying about money and work and all that. The worst thing those kids deal with is what color hair clips to wear and how many toys they can sneak into the bathtub. That's the way it should be."

Stacy smirked at that. "Yeah, I think Octavia tries to bring her entire dollhouse into the bathroom sometimes." She set the plates aside and pulled out the napkins. "I haven't managed to fully get the hang of things."

Daryl shrugged. "These girls make it easier than most. But there aint no gettin' the hang 'a things, just rollin' with what they throw at ya. All you gotta do is love 'em, show 'em you care about the things they do even if some of it is silly. Actually, especially the silly stuff. "

"Like birds with hair?" she asked, flashing him a grin.

He returned the amusement. "Yep." He didn't know the woman that well but being with her one-on-one, her anxiety and insecurity was hard to ignore. Maybe some of it was stress about her wedding but even so, as the non-parent in a relationship, he could sympathize with her difficulties. "Look, don't mind Tavi. She's a mama's gal and she'll come around. You aint gotta be like Michonne because you aint never gonna be her to them. You just gotta be you and they'll like that just fine. Take Tavi with ya to one 'a your fancy art things 'cause she likes to ask questions."

Stacy had stopped her counting and looked at him like he was this huge mystery. Yet again, he felt unnerved and went back to his task. "Not that I'm tryin' to tell ya what to do or nothin'," he added.

"No, no. I appreciate the insight. James isn't quite so specific when I ask him about it." She returned to her box of supplies. "He just tells me to do my best and be patient with them. And you're right, they're good girls. It's me that hasn't adjusted. It never occurred to me to talk to Octavia that way. I see that they both love making pictures and drawing but even though I studied art and curate art shows, I've never been one for getting my hands dirty creating it. When I feel out of my element, I usually just distance myself and you can't do that with kids." She sighed. "But you fall in love with someone and that means making your lives together work, right?"

He didn't have time to think of a response because his phone started ringing in his pocket. Pulling it out, he groaned when he saw who it was; better to deal with it now than put it off though. He hit the answer button with more force than necessary.

"What?" he said.

"Damn, Daryl. Them kids must got you stressed out to get ya hollerin' at people. Otherwise, I know you wouldn't dream 'a talking to your kin like that."

Daryl frowned. "What do ya want, Merle. I told ya I was busy today."

"I know what ya told me. I aint feeble. This'll only take a second and you can go back to your Adventures in Babysitting shit or whatever it is you're doin' over there."

"Get to it, Merle or I'm hangin' up." He glanced over at Stacy and saw she was busying herself with her task to create an illusion of privacy.

'Geez, so touchy, little brother. Listen. I need to borrow the truck tomorrow. It's a job thing."

"What kind 'a job thing."

"The kind a job thing where I need a damn truck."

With Merle, nothing was ever as it seemed at face value so he'd learned to ask questions before putting himself on the line. "What the hell kind 'a job got you goin' some place on a Sunday with equipment that aint yours in the first place?"

"Maybe you shouldn't worry 'bout it 'cause it's at least work that's legal and square. You gon' lend me the truck or not 'cause I aint gonna beg."

Daryl clenched his jaw, so sick of Merle's crap. But the man had a point and if he was gonna be out of his hair and bringing in some money then that was worth the trouble.

"I got stuff to do tomorrow too but I can drop off the key on the way and take my bike. You better return it like I left it."

"Yeah, yeah, little brother. I done heard it all before. I guess that means you'll be playin' house tonight with your sassy lady-friend and I aint gon' see you till tomorrow anyway."

Daryl walked out of the kitchen taking the full trash bag with him. Out of earshot of anyone at the party, he had free reign to express his frustrations with his brother. "Don't start any 'a your shit with me Merle."

"Calm down, I aint gon' say nothin' bout that girl. We got an agreement on it."

After that disaster of a meeting, he'd laid down the law with Merle, telling him that his relationship with Michonne was off-limits and if he couldn't get along or at least be respectful then they could still be cool as brothers but he'd have to get up outta his house and make his own way. There wasn't no way he'd let anybody sit in his home and shit on something that meant so much to him. Merle, perhaps sensing how dead serious Daryl was and realizing he'd crossed a line, had surprisingly agreed and apologized. He'd even called Michonne himself and given her the best sorry he had in him. It had still been a shitty sorry but at least it was freely offered.

"I was just askin' to ask. Thought them kids woulda drivin' ya to drink by about now." Daryl relaxed. Yeah, his brother was trying even if it was the equivalent of putting in the least amount of effort possible.

Depositing the trash into the big bin in the garage, he paused as he reentered the house. "Everything's fine over here. You just worry 'bout whatever you got goin' on tomorrow." That was as close to good luck as either of them was capable of.

"Yeah. I'll take care 'a your precious, piece 'a shit truck so don't worry. I hope ya get some good pussy tonight for puttin' up with all those brats. Later, kid." Daryl's phone switched off at Merle's hangup. He rolled his eyes at his brother. God forbid he get too sentimental.

Daryl headed toward the kitchen to check on Stacy but the doorbell had him changing directions.

Now what?

Maybe it was some latecomer although Michonne hadn't mentioned them waiting on anyone. When he opened the door, an older man stood on the porch looking alert and expectant. They stared at each other, Daryl clearly waiting for him to say exactly what the hell he wanted. If he was selling something, this was gonna be a short, no-nonsense conversation.

"Is Michonne available?"

"Who wants to know?" Daryl inquired. The man looked taken aback at the question but not intimidated.

"I just need to drop off some things with her. Do I have the right residence? Is she available?" he asked again. "It looks like you're having some sort of get-together and I hate to impose. It'll only take a moment." He also tried looking into the house but Daryl cut that off promptly.

Daryl had done his time dodging subpoenas and avoiding creditor-types so he wasn't giving anything up to this guy. "She's busy. What you got for her?"

The man frowned slightly but let it go, obviously sensing it wasn't worth the trouble to make a fuss. "I just need to drop this confidential research off for her but I need to make sure she'll get it."

Daryl reached for the thick envelope he carried. "Is it for work or somethin'?" The man still seemed reluctant to hand the material over.

"Yes," he said carefully. "It's for a case."

"Why didn't ya just say so, man? I'll make sure she gets it." He finally grabbed the envelope from the stranger and went to shut the door before being stopped with an outstretched arm.

"You're sure she'll get that? Today." Now he seemed nervous and Daryl would have been more concerned if he hadn't already met the type of people Michonne worked with. Most of them were pretty weird and intense and this dude was no different.

"Yeah, I said I would. Now go on. We gotta houseful 'a kids to wait on and I aint got time to stand here talkin' to you." Daryl closed the door on the man and returned to the back of the house. He threw the package on the kitchen table. He'd let Michonne know later. She didn't like to be interrupted with work stuff when she was focused on the girls. If it was so damned important, she'd come looking for it.

Stacy continued to work on the birthday cake supplies, likely stalling so she wouldn't have to go back out with the kids. James was still at the table helping out with the decorating but Michonne had moved on to get the older kids started on the piñata.

Stacy looked up from her pile of toys and forks and napkins. "Everything okay?" He must have looked confused since she added. "With your phone call." Thinking back on it, he guessed he had seemed stressed out.

"Naw, it's cool. Just my brother. He's bein' a pain in the ass, like always."

"Oh, it must be nice to have siblings. I'm an only child. Does he hang out over here with you all and the kids?" Daryl winced and her cheerful smile faltered. "I don't mean to pry," she said, going back to organizing her gear.

Daryl shrugged. Maybe it was because he'd seen her being all vulnerable and felt like he could give her more of the benefit of the doubt but he didn't mind chatting with her. "It aint no secret or nothin'. He's kind of small-minded so he aint really warmed up yet to how things are here." Daryl looked in the pantry for a new trash bag to refill the garbage can. "He'll come around though. I'll make 'em."

"You make it sound so easy," she replied, unable to hide a bit of bitterness to her voice. He looked over at her, questioning. "It's just people have a lot to say behind my back about me and James because he's older and has kids and stuff. They don't get that you love who you love. Sure, you know that there are going to be challenges and that we don't live our lives in a bubble. But it doesn't matter when you know what's right and good for yourself." She glanced back over to him. "You know what I mean?"

Daryl smiled at her. "I do. I'll keep what ya said in mind though. Maybe use it on my brother." He set the garbage can back into place and they both turned to the window to see that all the kids had flocked to the piñata. One of the dads was doing the honors with the rope, jerking it up and town to tempt the children's excitement.

Michonne appeared in the kitchen heading straight for the cake and candles. "That piñata is made of Kevlar or something. They might be out there all day trying to crack that thing open." A burst of cheers rang up as one of the little girls got a good whack at the bobbing horse.

"Everything's set with the plates and stuff," Stacy offered. Her tone was a bit guarded but most folks stayed intimidated by Michonne, even when there wasn't the added pressure of being "the new wife."

Smiling over at her with approval, Michonne searched around for the candles to start putting them into the cake—it was in the shape of a dog and a cat sitting side by side. Octavia was going to lose her mind when she saw it. "Thanks for taking care of that. Would you mind setting up the table out on the porch. You just need to put all the plates and things in piles at the head of the table and then put the little toys out, one at each place setting." Stacy nodded and left to tackle her job.

"And what are _you_ doing?" The look she gave him over her shoulder was mischievous rather than accusing. He walked over to wash his hands and flicked her in the face with water. When she delivered the scowl he'd been hoping for, he laughed.

"Don't worry 'bout it." He stepped around her to plant a kiss on her cheek, handing her the candles he'd set aside earlier.

"You and Whitley Gilbert best friends now?"

He figured her question was a dig at Stacy but hell if he knew what she was talking about. "Who's that? Like some fancy person I'm supposed to know about?" Daryl asked.

She confirmed his suspicions and nodded towards Stacy who was doing as Michonne had asked, tackling her instructions with great care it seemed. "It's from a different world."

"Well, that clears it up." She took in his sarcasm and clueless expression and laughed, harder than he thought the joke warranted.

"No, I meant … never mind," Michonne said. He let it go because, as far as he was concerned, planning this party had made her kind of crazy.

"Well, whatever. She aint so bad." He put his arm around Michonne and looked over her shoulder as she worked.

Michonne made a noncommittal murmur at his observation. "No, she's not bad at all. I'm sure she's a lovely girl. She just needs to loosen up around my kids and she'll be fine."

"They'll be her kids too, soon. And she'll get there. Maybe you should like do a girls night with her or somethin'. Give her some pointers and shit so everybody sees you're on the same team."

Michonne turned to look at him and he met her gaze, steady and serious. "Did she say something to you?"

Daryl shrugged. "Just seems like she's frettin' 'bout folks acceptin' her and being a stepmom so young. She's still thinkin' on how to make sense of it all and she aint really had the life skills to handle it." Michonne went back to her work fussing with the cake. "I guess I understand that 'cause 'a how weird folks get around us when we got the girls."

At this, she shifted in his embrace. "Did His Highness get into it with you earlier?" The scowl was back and he was glad it wasn't directed at him this time.

"No, that's fine." He rolled his eyes thinking about the earlier exchange. "It's handled."

She scrutinized him to make sure she wasn't missing anything and then went back to figuring out where to place the candles on the cake. "Well, I'll think about your suggestion and I'm glad you had such a good time with Stacy." He didn't know if the stiffness of her words pointed to a hint of jealousy but the idea of it made him grin as he tightened his hold on her.

"Actually, I spent most 'a the time on the phone fussin' with Merle 'cause he wants to use my truck for a job thing tomorrow."

"I thought you were going over Rick's to help with some project." She pushed him away when he tried to tell her where to place the candles.

Still chuckling, he ran a hand down her back. "I am but I don't need the truck for it. I can just take the bike." On his way out the door to help with the kids, he spotted the package he'd thrown on the table. "Oh and some guy dropped that off for ya." He pointed to the large envelope. "He was real squirrely 'bout you gettin' it. Said something 'bout it bein' for a case. Don't know if you were expectin' it or not."

"I was." Michonne glanced at it and frowned before going back to her work. "I'll look at it later though. Thanks."

He paused, noting her tension and wondering if the package had to do with some important case. She wasn't in trial—she usually let him know because it was rough on her schedule. He shrugged it off and went about his business.

Grinning at the sight of Octavia swinging blindly at the piñata, he let out a whoop of pleasure when she wacked it good and candy poured out.

"That's my girl!" he called out. They had practiced her swing a few days ago. All the kids flurried around the grass getting their fill as the dad monitoring the piñata let the candy rain across the area. It was the perfect distraction before Michonne brought out the cake.

When Octavia ran over to show him her stash and excitedly recite how she'd busted open the giant horse, he was sure the rush of satisfaction would sustain him for a long while.

TBC …


End file.
